Bloodlust
by Samehada92
Summary: After the fateful night in Godric's Hollow, Bellatrix is determined to bring back the Dark Lord. In her desperation she seeks out a vampire, in hopes that it would be able to help her with its many lifetimes of experience. But through unforeseen circumstances Bellatrix is turned into a vampire herself, changing her life forever.
1. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

The Dark Lord was gone.

On the night of Halloween, he planned to rid himself of his greatest, if not only, threat existent in this world. But it all backfired. What should have been a walk in the park turned out to be the very downfall of Lord Voldemort.

How a young boy, a mere infant, was capable of besting the greatest wizard of all time was anybody's guess. Many even thought he died that night but Bellatrix knew better. She knew there was no way a stupid, salivating toddler could fulfil a feat like that. Her lord was out there somewhere, she was sure of it.

When the news reached her, she had been furious. For hours on end she had hexed and cursed anyone and anything that got in her line of sight. Combined with her crying and yelling it had been a terrifying experience for everyone involved. Only when she'd calmed down a bit did her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, dare to approach her, suggesting they should find one of the Aurors and torture the whereabouts of the Dark Lord out of them.

But of course, that had been a dead end. Even after torturing Frank Longbottom and his wife to insanity they were none the wiser. That stupid Rodolphus and his idiot brother, Rabastan, had even managed to get themselves captured. Barty somehow escaped the initial ruse and almost managed to get away, but in the end was apprehended as well. And Bellatrix herself, well, she was still on the run – the authorities not far behind, however. Whenever she stayed in one place for too long, they came knocking and the chase began anew.

That was how she ended up in the town she was in right now – a small non-wizard village a few kilometres outside of London. She figured no one would ever suspect that she, the pure-blood witch of the most ancient and noble house of Black, would ever consider taking shelter in a Muggle village. But that was only part of the reason for her visit. Rumours had brought her here. Rumours of a certain being living in this vicinity – a vampire.

After all the attempts to gather information had failed she remembered something she once read in a book. It said that vampires were among the oldest magical creatures roaming the planet. Many of them said to have lived for hundreds of years already – some even more than a thousand. So, if anyone were potentially to know what happened to the Dark Lord, or maybe a way to bring him back, it would be a vampire.

And so, the dark witch made her way out of the town to take a stroll through the woods. Apparently, the bloodsucker lived in a cottage inside the forest not far outside the village – if you could trust the ramblings of some filthy Muggles.

But what choice did she have? She couldn't risk talking to anyone but them. It was frustrating, infuriating and humiliating. The mere thought made her body tense up and tremble with rage. Bellatrix was just about to throw some curses around to satisfy her anger but through the darkness of the trees she spotted a worn-down shack in the middle of a small clearing, enlightened by the pale moonlight. Curiously she stepped closer to the tiny building.

It could only have been described as scrap. The planks it was made of were perforated and mouldy, some even completely ripped out of the construct. The windows were broken – the frames hung out of place. About half of the also wooden roof had broken down and was rotting on the room's floor it had crashed down on. Dust, dirt and moss covered most of the furniture inside. The desk and matching chair even sprouted strange fungi. All in all, it appeared to have been abandoned ages ago. Nothing about it would've suggested that it had housed any kind of living creature in recent years.

But there was no doubt that it had. Bellatrix could feel the magical energy surrounding the cottage. A powerful charm lay on it. In the eyes of a Muggle it was nothing more than what it seemed, but for her, a witch, it was clear that this was only a hideout in disguise. Smirking she took out her wand. No charm could hide something from her.

"Revelio," she muttered while pointing the twig-like weapon at the crooked door. A few seconds passed but nothing happened. Her cocky grin slowly turned to an angered grimace. With a flick of her wand the shabby door was ripped out of its remaining hinge and smashed into a nearby tree. Snorting contemptuously, she stalked into the hut with huge steps. She started to scan the place vigorously. If the enchantment couldn't be broken by simple spell casting, there had to be some other way to get past it – most likely a password, hidden switch or interaction with a random object.

After a few minutes of intense searching she still hadn't found anything. The dark witch was about to freak out when a red glint suddenly caught her eye. She turned to look where it came from and found the door she had knocked away a couple moments before. Set in what looked like a doorknob two scarlet gems glistened in the pallid moonlight. When she moved closer to inspect it she recognized the shape of the stone figment to be a bat's head.

"Of course," her snort sounded through the darkness while she rolled her eyes.

Bellatrix lifted her hand in an attempt to touch the strange thing but before she could, the head sprung to life, jerked itself left and right – the red colour draining from its eyes. Surprised she retracted her hand and stared at the bodiless head, which stared right back at her. The now plain crystals eyed her intently – almost expectantly. It took a moment for her to realize but when she did, she sighed exasperatedly.

"Only a vampire would come up with something like that," she scoffed aggravated and held her pointer into the bat's mouth. Immediately the stone animal sunk its teeth into her skin and drew blood from her fingertip, gulping it down eagerly. The scarlet gleam returned to the gem stones and after withdrawing her finger, the mouth closed, and the head stopped moving again.

What happened next was too fast even for the dark witch to fully fathom. In a sweeping motion the mouldy door picked up the Death Eater and carried her back into the scrappy shack, locking itself in the threshold. All the furniture she'd disassembled only a few minutes earlier was magically put together, rearranged, and cleaned. The collapsed roof swiftly floated upwards and repaired itself. The dust, mould, and mushrooms disappeared without a trace and the wooden planks fixed themselves, now, again, looking as good as new. In the end she was standing inside a hut that appeared as if it was just built yesterday – warm, inviting, cosy.

But Bellatrix didn't care about that. All she wanted was to finally end this farce, so she could confront this vile creature and hopefully find out how to bring back her Dark Lord. Vigorously she wrapped her hand around the bat-head-shaped doorknob and violently swung the door open only to stop dead in her tracks, frozen in astonishment.

Contrary to her expectations she didn't find herself out in the dark of the forest, but inside a magnificent entrance hall. The floor was carpeted in red and silver fabric. It even covered the palatial stairs. A chandelier made of beautifully crafted glass-crystals hung centrally from the ceiling, the room ablaze with the lights of its dozens of candles.

"My, my, what do we have here," a calm voice resounded through the room, "I wonder how long it has been since someone found their way here." There, on top of the T-shaped stairwell, stood a slender man. He had smooth black hair, fair, pale skin and yellow eyes, which shone almost menacingly into Bellatrix'. The little smirk the guy wore faded away as he slightly tilted his head, "Or should I say, 'lost their way'?"

The raven-haired woman sized him up suspiciously with narrowed eyes. "So... You are the vampire, I suppose," she finally said, not breaking eye contact.

"Indeed, I am," he answered while making his way down the stairs, smiling softly. The man came to a stop on the landing that marked the staircases halfway point. "And what, if I may ask, brings Bellatrix Lestrange of all people into my tranquil quarters?" the vampire inquired curiously while said witch was climbing the steps, now sporting a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, so you've heard of me." A wicked smile followed.

"Well, Madame Lestrange, I think there is no soul left in all of wizarding Britain who doesn't know your name. Not after what you did to poor Alice and Frank Longbottom."

"Now that's flattering," the witch cackled gleefully as she reached the landing to finally see the man eye to eye. Though she had to look slightly up, for he was a bit taller. "I really did well there, didn't I?" She gave a playful wink, still smirking wickedly.

The smile he'd worn to that moment vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a cold, stern stare. "What do you want?" His calm and pleasant tone had become harsh and icy. "Why are you here?"

Her amused features now made way for a serious expression as well, "I want to bring back the Dark Lord."

"I figured as much," he spoke matter-of-factly, narrowing his eyes, "but I wonder why you came to _me_."

"Because, presumably, you lived long enough to have seen or heard of a solution to my wittle pwobwem," she ended in a child-like manner and a downright heart-warming puppy-eye-pout. But the vampire gentleman didn't let himself be distracted by that. He just gazed at her with an unchanged expression.

"Lord Voldemort is dead," his cold voice sounded, "you are wasting your time."

For a brief moment she just stood there bewilderedly.  
"No. No, he is NOT DEAD!" Bellatrix shrieked, grabbing her wand and pointing it at him. She was breathing heavily, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, "And you will tell me how to bring him back."

The vampire narrowed his eyes even further and just kept staring at her for several seconds. The witch returned his gaze challengingly, daring him to not meet her demands. She tightened the grip around her wand, ready to strike any time.

After a few more moments his unreadable face turned into a questioning one, "Why do you want to bring him back so badly?"

"Because he is the greatest wizard in our world," she stated much calmer than a few seconds ago, "we need him." A short laugh escaped his throat.

"No one needs him. He is nothing but a scared child mad with life because it—" His words got cut off by a spell the dark witch threw right in his face. He groaned uncomfortably while closing his eyes in pain.

"Don't you dare insult him!" she yelled, breathing heavily, staring at him with a mad glance, "he is the greatest man alive. He is _all _I need."

"It really is a shame," the vampire spoke while he returned his gaze on her, "that you can't see yourself through my eyes." Slight confusion washed over Bellatrix' face for a second after that remark, but she quickly caught herself again and continued to glare at him.

"Just tell me what I want to know," she muttered in a low, menacing voice. _He has to come back. I need him. I'm nothing without him_, she added in her thoughts, clenching her wand even harder.

"You know, you are so much more than what you make yourself believe you are. But your blind adoration for that man prevents you from seeing it."

Her eyes widened at that blunt statement, _Did he just read my mind? _A smirk appeared on her counterpart's face. _But... how? There was no sign of legilimency._

"Well, we vampires have our tricks," he said nonchalantly and turned his smirk to a soft smile.

Bellatrix took a step forward and pressed her wand into his throat, "Stay. Out. Of. My. Head." The words came slowly over her lips, giving her an even more menacing aura than she'd already surrounded herself with.

For a few seconds the two of them only stared stubbornly into each other's eyes. With a voiceless sigh the vampire gave in and lowered his head.

"Alright, then." He turned around and made his way up the stairs. Bellatrix followed him cautiously, wand still at the ready. "You are right. The Dark Lord is not dead."

Her heart jumped at his words.

"But he is not really alive either," he continued as he came to a stop in front of the giant, beautifully crafted double door, "he is a bodiless essence, a mere shadow of himself."

The witch scowled at him and felt her anger rise again. "If you want to look for him, I'm afraid I can't give you guidance. I think no one knows where he actually fled to."

Bellatrix briefly interrupted him with a curse through clenched teeth.

"But I do know this: As long as he has even the tiniest thread of life to hang on to, he will rise again someday. So, all you need to have for now is patience," he closed his speech and gave a mirthless smile.

Deep in thought she slowly lowered her wand as she kept eyeing him intently.

"And if I find him," she raised her voice again a few moments later, "what would I have to do to restore his power?" The question didn't catch him by surprise, according to his facial expression, but he did seem to ponder the answer. Whether he tried to find one, or if he was unsure of telling it to her, she didn't know. But it wasn't long before he opened his mouth again.

"You will need—"

***BOOM***

A loud explosion interrupted him. The impact sent him flying directly into Bellatrix. She got the wind knocked out of her as they both collided with the wooden banister behind her. It broke under their momentum and the witch crashed down on the landing losing her consciousness. When she came to a few moments later her whole body felt numb – not able to even move a single muscle. Her vision was blurry and there was a constant ringing in her ears. The only other thing she could hear were muffled voices. Though impossible to understand what they were saying she could clearly tell that they were furiously arguing vociferously.

Bellatrix blinked a few times to clear her eyes, but it didn't work. Moving her body proofed impossible as well, as someone or something held her in place. The muffled voices had also died down, so she just kept lying there – the ringing in her ears her only companion.

But then she felt something. It was very light, barely touching her, but it was there – a hand on her shoulder. One of the dull voices returned and was very close to her. Slowly the witch turned her head towards the noise and after blinking again a few times, the face of the vampire came into focus.

Her other senses followed soon after and the first thing she noticed was a searing pain right beneath her ribcage. She cast a glance toward it and saw a wooden stake sticking out of her midriff. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath quickened as the wood gradually soaked itself with her blood.

"Shhh. Calm down," she heard the pale man's soothing voice and returned her gaze to him. She hated how he looked at her, full of concern and sympathy, and attempted to growl, but a burning sensation inside her chest stopped her instantly. "The wood splintered quite a bit on the impact and punctured your lungs," he explained the pain she'd just felt and offered her a compassionate smile, "I'm afraid you will not survive this. The wound is too severe."

Tears started to form in her eyes. Not out of fear of death, but because she was absolutely livid with herself. Because she was a failure and disappointment to her Dark Lord and out of regret that she wouldn't be there to see him rise again. Her breathing grew faster again, which became increasingly harder to do. Also, she felt her consciousness slip away little by little.

"And yet there is one thing I could do to save you," the vampire spoke and watched her intently, as his soft smile turned into somewhat of a grin to reveal his vampiric fangs, "one bite is all it would take. One bite and you'll live. It is a desperate measure, of course – one that I'd never suggest lightly. Your life would drastically change – most likely for the worse." The pale man placed a hand on her right cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb, "Therefore, I need your consent." He bent over her, lowering his head, "I need to hear you say it." His lips were now almost touching her ear, when he asked in an enticing whisper, "Do you want to live?"

Bellatrix wasn't really sure what the vampire was saying. She had witnessed the last few moments through a murky haze. But the last question cut through it like a knife. Her half-closed eyes fully reopened again while she drew a deep breath. A burning pain shot through her lungs, her throat scratched as if she had just swallowed a load of dry sand. Her vision was starting to fade – soon she would drift off into eternal slumber.

With every fibre of her body she mustered up all the strength she had left to squeeze out the one word she desperately wanted to say.

"Yes."

Her raspy voice was barely audible, but she knew he had heard. Because the last thing she felt, before losing consciousness, were his sharp teeth breaking the skin on her neck.


	2. Vampire

**Author's note:**

**Hello, there.**

**First of all, I would like to thank everyone who follows, favourited, and/or reviewed this fanfiction. I really appreciate it. And, for the future, whenever I'm not responding directly to your reviews, it doesn't mean that I don't care – I simply don't know what to say. Just so you know.**

**Second of all, I'd like to give you some info concerning this ff.**  
**The story will cover the events from the battle in the Department of Mysteries all the way to the battle of Hogwarts (of course ignoring the "19 years later" epilogue). It will focus mainly on Bellatrix and later also Hermione – a little less on Harry and Sirius. Couples, of course, are going to happen. Only on the side, though, since this is no romance-story.**

**After this chapter, I have no more pre-written ones in store. Meaning I can't promise you frequent updates. I will, however, try my best to keep the waiting to a minimum. I have a general idea where I want to go with this story, as well as some "key moments"already figured out. But how I'll get to those moments or how to connect them, I am not sure myself, as I make most of this stuff up as I go.**

**In future chapters, if I feel the need to add an author's note, I will put it after the chapters and keep it as brief as possible.**

**Alright, I think that was enough rambling on my part. So without further ado, I present to you:**

**Bloodlust – Chapter two: Vampire**

* * *

When Bellatrix woke up again her head was throbbing painfully. In fact, her whole body was. A burning sensation seared its way through her veins with every beat of her heart. Her throat felt dry and an almost unbearable thirst plagued her. She hated that feeling. It made her feel weak.

With a groan she opened her eyes and sat up, letting her gaze roam the room she was in. It was quite small and pitch black, yet she could see perfectly. The walls were made of thick stone. The door seemed very sturdy, likely to withstand a great deal of force. The air was damp and cold. It didn't bother her, however.

Her wandering eyes stopped when they met another's. For a few seconds they just stared at each other.  
She knew him. She remembered them – those piercing yellow eyes. It was the man she'd sought out to get information. She recalled talking to him, almost acquiring the knowledge she was desperate to find. She remembered an explosion and then…

Slowly, she moved her hand to her neck, not exactly sure why, though.

The man in front of her gave her a weary and compassionate smile.  
"Welcome back to the world of the living," he calmly said in a gentle voice, stood up and walked over, sitting down on the edge of her bed, "how are you feeling?"

"I—," Bellatrix flinched at her own voice. It was rough and dry, scratching painfully in her throat. She slung one hand around it and coughed a few times.

"Here. Drink that," the vampire said soothingly as he gently stroked her back and offered her a chalice, holding a thick red liquid. She took the cup and eyed the substance warily. By its smell she could already determine what it was. Her mouth started to water and she licked her lips, eager to taste the unusual drink.

Her hands began to shake and in the next moment her mind blacked out for a second, as desire overwhelmed her. The witch put the mug to her mouth and eagerly gulped down its delicious content. A sensation she'd never felt before engulfed her entire body; the metallic taste of the unfamiliar beverage almost drove her mad with pleasure.

As Bellatrix enjoyed the very last drop of her drink, a satisfied moan left her throat. She let the cup fall to the ground, her thirst quenched, yet craving for more.  
Again she scarcely touched her neck, remembering now what had happened, "So, I am a vampire now."

"Yes," he spoke in a low voice as he took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently. The raven haired woman led her gaze towards him and narrowed her eyes. She could've been mistaken but she thought she saw regret in his downcast eyes.

The witch frowned as she took her eyes off him, staring straight at the wall but not really seeing it. Crestfallen she sunk her head, sighing weakly. "I am a vampire," she muttered while her gaze was locked on her unhealthily pale left hand. "Why?" she desperately questioned no one in particular and brought her palm to cover half her face. "Why?" she repeated, voice quivering as tears prickled the corner of her eyes.

A moment later a heartbreaking cry resounded in the small room. Bellatrix let herself fall back into the bed, the tears now running down freely. Her hand now covered both her eyes; sobs were shaking her body. She was a vampire. A monster. Not human anymore. Not... pure. And she would never again be.  
The thought made her sick. Anger rose inside of her. She shot upwards into a seating position, ready to rain down hellfire on him when she felt a light squeeze on her right hand, which, she now realised, he was still holding.

Infuriated, she wanted to pull away, but instead, to her own bewilderment, she returned the squeeze, held on tight to the man's cool hand. The witch couldn't quite explain it, but from his skin, despite being cold to the touch, radiated a warmth and familiarity, that eased the tension in her body. The gentle strokes of his thumb across the back of her hand gradually soothed the ire within her. Her wrath completely forgotten, she stared down at their interlocked hands, tightening her grip even further. When she spoke, her words were quiet and drained of any emotion.

"Why did you do this to me?"

The man suddenly stopped his tender caress, what, to her great dismay, unsettled the witch a little bit. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in the process, only to reopen them to stare at their joint hands as well.

"I don't know," he confessed, letting go of Bellatrix. A displeased growl formed in her stomach but she managed to hold it back. "Usually, I don't concern myself with the lives of others – especially when they're human," the vampire continued and focused his gaze now directly on her, "but when I saw you lying there, impaled by that stake and slowly bleeding out, I just couldn't let you die."

The witch nodded slightly and locked eyes with the man afterwards.  
"And what made you think that I wouldn't prefer being dead, over becoming AN ABOMINATION LIKE THIS?!" With every word her voice grew louder. Her nostrils flared and her eyes burned with fury.

"Because you said so," he calmly replied, not even fazed in the slightest by her outburst of anger, "well, you probably might've been a bit delusional at the time, given the aforementioned blood loss. But when I asked if you wanted to live, you clearly said 'yes'." Images of her pierced, bleeding abdomen flashed through her mind, as did his muffled question and her croaked answer.

"I remember," she admitted begrudgingly, her face still distorted in ire.

"Look, if there'd been any other option, I would've taken it, but there wasn't. You were dying and I had to make a decision." He snorted disdainfully. "I even had to bargain for your survival with those dastardly Aurors, if you'd imagine."

Bellatrix visibly flinched and widened her eyes.

"Aurors?" she breathed aggravated as anger welled up inside her once again, her breathing gradually accelerating. She felt the vampire's smooth skin, as he retook her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. The witch immediately calmed down and held on tight to the man's hand.

"So, I assume I am in Azkaban, then," she concluded and sighed exasperated, glancing at her companion. He nodded reservedly.

"I'm sorry. Their one condition was to lock you up in here," the man explained ruefully and narrowed his lids in detest, "and I had no choice but to accept."

"I see," she whispered in acceptance of her fate. "But why does it bother _you_ so much?" the witch curiously asked a few seconds later, as she could feel his distress through their touching hands.

"Because..." He shot her a dark look, his uneasiness intensifying and starting to affect her own emotional state. "...normally, I would never allow any human to interfere with vampire business." The way he said the word 'human' sent a shiver down her spine. "We have our own court, our own council to judge our crimes," he continued in ever rising anger, but then he took a deep breath and forced all the negativity inside him into his subconscious, before he calmly went on, "but since your crimes were committed when you were still human, they demanded you stand trial before _their_ court." He made a spitting sound, obviously disgusted. "And by that they meant to have you sentenced to a lifetime in this hellhole."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," she responded confidently, earning a surprised look from the vampire. "You said it yourself, didn't you?" Bellatrix haughtily regarded the man beside her, "all I need to have right now is patience." He smiled at her, ready to agree. "The Dark Lord will come to free me before too long." And his face dropped again; an annoyed groan left his throat.

"Right, I guess he will," he muttered monotonous and let go of the raven haired woman. Immediately, a pang of loneliness surged through her body and she felt the urge to reach out and recapture his hand, but she managed to hold herself back.

_What is wrong with me?_

That thought had crossed her mind several times since she woke up. She couldn't explain what was happening to her. Whenever he held her hand she felt safe, calm, and comfortable – her actual feelings completely snuffed out. But as soon as he let go of her, all the hate and ire came rushing back, with a strong side of loneliness and abandonment.

Even now she could clearly feel it, the burning wrath towards the man who got her into this mess, who turned her into this monster. And yet she also felt this unfathomably heart aching desire to be with him, to stay by his side, to have him wrap his arms around her and never let go.

She hated this feeling; it was disgusting.

While she was dealing with her internal struggle, the vampire stood up.

"In that box over there are a few blood vials," he told her and pointed at a cooling box in one of the room's corners, while he gradually made his way to the door, "they should last for about a month."

She nodded her understanding as she watched him walk to the exit, an unsettled expression on her face. The witch knew he was about to leave, and again she was plagued by her contradicting emotions. Her head wanted him to go; her heart wanted him to stay.  
In the end she listened to her brain, agreeing with herself that her heart's desires would make her appear weak – and that, she couldn't allow.

"Whenever you need to restock your supplies, you only need to say so," the man explained and gestured to the door, "one of my servants is standing guard right outside. As soon as you voice your demand for blood, he will see to it." Bellatrix gave a court nod to acknowledge his statement.  
The corner of his mouth was shortly tugged upwards into a mirthless smile before he opened the cell to step outside.

"Wait!" the witch yelped, hating herself for doing so. Hadn't she just decided that she wouldn't give in to her heart? _Whatever_, she thought and shook her head. She'd allow herself one last moment of weakness. "When..." Oh, how pathetic her voice sounded. "When will I see you again?"

He turned back to her, this time a genuine smile on his lips.

"When you get out of here," he simply stated and walked outside. She heard the door's lock fall into place, steps moving away from her compartment, and then... silence.

Bellatrix sighed exhaustedly and lay back into her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

_So, now I wait_. She turned to her side and hugged her knees close to her chest.

"My Lord," she murmured pleadingly, "please, don't take too long."

* * *

***Drip... **** Drip... Drip...***

She was bored.

***Drip... Drip... Drip...***

Watching those water drops didn't help.

***Drip... Drip... Drip...***

Somehow it felt as if the droplets were mocking her. She narrowed her eyes.

***Drip... Drip...***

Silence...

Bellatrix perked her head, looking up to the ceiling from where the water had dripped down until a second ago. The stone was still wet, but not enough to produce drops.

_Guess it stopped raining, for a change_, she mused, placing her head back on the makeshift pillow. Of course, she couldn't tell exactly, since she was cooped up in solitary confinement – no windows to the outside world, no contact to anyone, whatsoever. Her only companion was a, as she deduced, mute guard standing outside her cell, providing her with bottles of blood whenever she needed them.

Well, and the Dementors, naturally – although they never really concerned themselves with her. She only ever noticed their presence when the thin water-film on the walls and ceiling froze over, and the rapid drop in temperature. But, mostly, they just left her alone. They never even tried to feed off of her memories, and since, as a vampiress, the cold didn't bother her anyway, she never gave the eerie creatures much of a thought. The perks of being a vampire, she guessed.

With a deep sigh the witch rolled over and stared blankly at the cold stone wall.  
How much longer did she have to wait? How long until she could walk free again? She'd been locked up in this hole for so long now; that she hasn't gone insane yet was a miracle even to her.

Bellatrix guided her longing gaze towards the door. How much she'd love to just rip it out of its hinges and leave. Countless times she had attempted, but never gone through with it. Something deep inside her held her back every single time she'd tried to break free. It was frustrating.

***Drip... Drip... Drip...***

"Urgh!" another displeased groan left the raven haired woman's throat. Now those dreadful droplets were back. Aggravated she rubbed her face and dug her nails into her pale skin. She dropped her arms to her side as she heard a low rumbling in the distance.

_So, it's a tempest this time. How thrilling_, the witch thought sarcastically and rolled her eyes for good measure.

The rumbling grew louder.

_A very fast tempest_.

Bellatrix stood up and raised an eyebrow. She wanted to move towards the outer wall to put her ear against it, in order to better hear the outside noises. But a wary feeling told her to stay away instead – and the feeling didn't betray her. Only seconds after her decision was made, a blinding lightning bolt crashed into the cold stone wall, blasting a hole into it.

The vampiress stared wide eyed at the freshly created opening. The cool sea breeze slapped her cheeks and made its way into her lung, as she drew a deep breath. Slowly, she walked over to the edge and looked down, watching the last pieces of debris fall into the waves beneath her.

A maniacal cackle built inside her, which she gleefully let out as loud as she could, bending backwards as far as her spine would allow it.

The ice-cold raindrops, because of the Dementors more like ice-needles now, stabbed at her skin, almost breaking it. But she didn't mind. Right now, there was nothing that could bring her down, nothing to spoil her mood.

Only one thing mattered now:

She was free!

* * *

She took a deep breath to calm her rebelling stomach after experiencing the sudden feeling of being pressed through a tube. After not having apparated for such a long time it was logical that her body would need time to adjust to it again. She really didn't look forward to the next few times. She had always hated the feeling, even when she'd been used to it. But now it was even more intense than ever. The witch growled in dissatisfaction.

Yet, the next second her gut churned not of discomfort, but anticipation. What brought the sudden change was the sight of Malfoy-Manor – her sister's home. And, of course, the place where she would meet her Lord again.

With a renewed eagerness she quickened her step, when she heard loud cracking sounds, announcing the arrival of her fellow inmates. The witch turned around and looked them over. They were disgusting, to say the least. Their dirty, unkempt hair was sticking to their pale, starved faces. Their eyes were hollow, robbed of all liveliness and vigour they might have once possessed. Their weak legs slowly carried them towards the mansion, looking as if the ragged clothes dragged them down even further. All in all, they looked more dead than alive – and almost smelled the part, too. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"So, they caught you after all, huh," sounded a gruff voice behind her. A voice she only knew too well.

"Unfortunately," Bellatrix replied slowly as she turned around and locked eyes with her husband, Rodolphus.

He looked her up and down.  
To say she looked astounding would've been an understatement. Despite wearing the same dirty and rotten clothes as everyone else, she still held herself with grace and superiority – and an air of royalty. Her skin looked unfazed by the hardships of prison-life – smooth and fare. The black curls on her head, though unkempt, looked like the finest silk and shone beautifully in the moonlight.  
"Couldn't have been a long stay," he muttered displeased with her flawless appearance.

"Long enough," she simply replied dryly and resumed her walk towards the mansion.

Being the first to reach the giant house Bellatrix, in disregard of all courtesy, threw open the huge double door and stepped into the opulent entrance hall. The sight was truly magnificent, but what caught the dark witch's eye first was none other than the Lady of the house herself. There she stood, Narcissa Malfoy, her blonde hair glistening so beautifully in the lighting of the mansion, that it would put any gold-accessory to shame. Her posture was upright and her clothes elegant – a picture of true aristocracy.

A warm smile laid itself on Bellatrix' lips as she gradually closed in to her sister. The noble woman tried her hardest to keep her gallant demeanour but when Bellatrix was only an arm's length away, the refined mask broke and she pulled her eldest sister into a crushing embrace. The vampiress immediately returned the gesture. Lucius, who stood beside the two, smiled briefly at his wife's joy and then went to greet the other Death Eaters, and give the siblings some privacy.

"I've missed you, Cissy," Bellatrix said huskily, squeezing her sister tighter.

"I missed you, too, Bella," she returned and loosened the embrace, "it must have been horrible spending all those years in Azkaban. How are you feeling? Let me look at you." Narcissa took Bella's face in her hands and examined her intently. A curious and worried frown built on her face. "You're ice cold," the blonde wondered out loud and the dark witch's stomach churned, "and you haven't aged a day."

"Well," Bellatrix started a little uneasy, "I suppose true beauty never withers." She withdrew from her sister's touch and managed a weary smile, to which the younger woman only raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it doesn't matter right now," Narcissa concluded, as she saw that her husband led the other Death Eaters out of the room, "let's get you out of these filthy rags and into proper attire." She pulled Bellatrix with her into another direction the others had gone. "The Dark Lord awaits," she added as they walked through a corridor.

The vampire's stomach churned again, this time in anticipation. The Dark Lord was waiting. She would finally see him again after all these dreadful years.

But she couldn't further knit her thoughts as she was pushed into a glamorous room.

"There is an adjacent bathroom for you to wash up back there and your clothes are laid out on the bed. I will send a house-elf to help you freshen up and get dressed," Narcissa declared in an imperious voice.

"No, Cissy, that's not—," the elder sister started in a slight panic but the blonde had already left the room and closed the doors behind her.

Not a second later, with a cracking sound, an elf appeared right in front of her. She knew those big, light green eyes, the wobbly ears and the long, beak-like nose of the creature before her.  
"Welcome back, Mistress Bellatrix," the elf happily squeaked with a bright smile, bowing deeply to her superior, "Binny is very delighted to sees Mistress is well." Bellatrix smiled at the small figure to her feet. Despite being an inferior creature, she'd always been quite fond of the elf.

"Good to see you, too, Binny." The little servant gave a squeal and beamed even brighter.

"Now come, Mistress. Binny will gets you clean again," the little elf chattered on cheerily and took Bellatrix by the hand, dragging her towards the bathroom as she tore away the rugged robe covering the witch's body with a swish of her other hand. She proceeded to drag the now bare woman along and put her into the already drawn bath. The hot water embraced the dark witch. She closed her eyes as the elf tended to her hair.  
Only a few minutes later Binny happily announced that she was finished washing her and, after drying the vampiress' body, ushered her back into the guest room to dress her. The elf led her Mistress to the mirror and immediately went to pick up the dress.

"Binny, you don't have to—" the witch tried to stop her servant, but she'd already returned with the clothes.

"Yes, Binny haves to," the elf squeaked mirthfully and let the dress float in front of Bellatrix, "it is Binny's greatest honour to assists—"

The little creature broke off midsentence, when she noticed that the only reflection, she saw in the mirror, was her own.  
The already big eyes of the little house-elf widened even further as understanding dawned on her. A few times she looked back and forth between her Mistress and the mirror. Bellatrix, meanwhile, eyed her warily, for she didn't know how she would react. Would she run off in panic? Yell? Alarm everyone in the house that a monster was present?

"Why haven't you saids something, Mistress?" Binny asked incredulously, staring at the raven-haired witch.

Bellatrix hesitated for a moment before she answered monotonously, "I didn't want anyone to know." She bent down and gazed at her servant intently, almost menacingly. "And you can't tell anyone, either. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," the elf replied and bowed her head.

"Good. Now, dress me," the vampiress commanded imperiously and stretched her arms out, to give her servant better access.

"Of course, Mistress." And the elf proceeded with her task, not speaking another word.

Not much later Bellatrix strutted down the hall again, fully dressed and styled to perfection. She pushed open the door to the sitting room where the other Death Eaters already waited. They'd been groomed as well and appeared at least close to what a living human being should look like.

But there was no time to think about it further, as another set of doors swung open. A big snake slithered its way in, closely followed by none other than Lord Voldemort. Elegantly, almost like a snake himself, he entered the room and scanned the occupants with his gleaming red eyes – his pale, snake-like features looking as eerie as ever.

The former prisoners all lined up promptly and bowed deeply to their Master in obedience.

"Rise, my friends," he spoke in a smooth voice and they followed immediately as the dark wizard walked closer. "Let me first convey my deepest gratitude to you," the Dark Lord continued with a, what he clearly thought was a grateful smile, "your level of loyalty impresses me immensely. You never strayed from your way, even endured the horrors of Azkaban, faithfully awaiting my return." He started walking down the line of his followers. "Your loyalty will be greatly rewarded."

As he reached Bellatrix she stared directly into his eyes, her own shining in adoration. But he only narrowed his lids and stepped a little closer. Not feeling able to bear the intensity of his gaze, the dark witch quickly bowed her head again. Bony fingers pressed forcefully into her cheeks as the Dark Lord yanked her face upwards. Yet more intently he peered at her.

The witch's heart started to race, out of both excitement and panic.

Did he know? Had he already found out? How would he react, if he had? Or was he just pleased to see her?

But those questions were answered when he roughly pushed her away with an expression of utter disgust on his face.

"It would seem, my friends," he raised his voice, not averting his disdainful eyes from Bellatrix for even a second, "that filth has found its way into our midst." Confused and uncertain murmur sounded through the hall as everyone in the room looked at Bellatrix.  
"By the looks of it," Voldemort continued in his smooth voice, "our dear Bellatrix has come into touch with a most loathsome creature – a vampire."

Shocked gasps resulted of his words. The loudest and most noticeable to the dark witch came from none other than her own sister. Hesitantly she took a peek at the blonde, and what she saw almost broke her heart. Narcissa's gaze lay on her, a hand covering her mouth, her eyes filled with tears and contempt; her own eyes welling up as well, Bellatrix let her head sink.

"We have no place for filth like you within our ranks," the Dark Lord once more raised his voice, now cold and harsh, as the Death Eaters surrounded the vampiress. Her eyes widened in unease as she looked at Voldemort.

"But... my Lord," she croaked weakly.

"Silence!" he hissed, cutting her off and raised his wand, "I will now dispose of this abomination." Bellatrix's eyes widened even further as he pointed his wand to her chest. For a brief moment, the whole room fell into silence.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She saw a green flash, heard the snickers of her Lord's followers and felt her mind fade into darkness, as the life left her body.


	3. Undead

Bellatrix' head throbbed painfully when she woke up again. Groaning she sat up in her bed and dug her face into her palms, rubbing her temples with her pointer and middle fingers.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

She flinched at the unpleasant memory suddenly rushing through her brain. Her hands dropped dejectedly, one of them placing itself on her heart.

_He killed me_, she thought incredulously, _he… he threw me away like I was garbage, like I was filth._

Anger was rising inside her, tears welling up in her eyes while her right hand convulsively clutched her chest. The witch lowered her head and quietly cried into her left palm, tears now running freely.

"Why?" she whimpered in a broken whisper, "why is this happening to me?"

Suddenly a door burst open and a guy stepped into the room. Bellatrix jerked her head his way.  
"Hey, you woke up," he chirped cheerfully upon seeing her and smiled benignly. He took a step closer but stopped immediately, when the witch vividly crawled back on her bed, trying to get more distance between her and the strange man. She looked around, searching for her wand, but couldn't find it anywhere. So, instinctively, she stood up and pressed her back against the wall, hissing and baring her fangs at him.

"There is no need to be alarmed," the man assured her and set down the bag he was wearing on a nearby desk, "you are perfectly safe here." He started rummaging around in his sachet until he produced a glass-vial, filled to the brim with a red liquid.

Bellatrix, meanwhile, frantically looked around the small room. The walls were decorated with stuffed deer-heads and birds. Skulls of different animals were also portrayed and above the desk, where the man's bag was settled, hung a strange stick made out of wood and metal.

"Where am I? How did I get here? Who are you? What happened?" the witch fired off her questions, breathing heavily.

"You are in one of many shooting lodges my Master calls his own," the stranger answered and chuckled a little, "he is quite fond of the Muggle ways of hunting." He pulled up a chair and sat down on it a short distance away from the bed Bellatrix was still standing on. "But, please, have a seat and calm yourself," he said soothingly and gestured to the edge of the bed, "as I said earlier, there is no need for you to worry."

The vampiress eyed him suspiciously, while he only kept smiling at her in that overly friendly manner he had since his arrival. She didn't trust that smile at all.

"My name is Gregory Paxton, by the way," he raised his voice again, "a loyal servant to Master Basilius, who so benevolently saved your life. Hopefully, knowing that will ease your mind at least a little."

Surprisingly enough, it did. Although being reminded of that vampire irked her quite a bit, hearing that this guy worked for him actually helped her relax. So, she chose to oblige for now – she _did_ need answers, after all. She sat down right opposite of Gregory, whose smile only grew wider. Somehow, it made her sick.

"Here, have this," he immediately said as soon as she had settled down and eagerly shoved the blood-vial into her hands, "it'll help regain your strength." She looked down at the bottle only to realize that she was, in fact, very thirsty. Her eyes closed pleasurably, as she breathed in the beguiling scent of blood, after she had removed the cork. Zealously, she gulped down the delicious contend and hummed in satisfaction. She had really needed that.

"Well, then," Greg's voice snapped the vampiress out of her moment of divine bliss. She had almost forgotten he was there. "I believe you still have questions that need answering." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs comfortably. "Please, go ahead."

For a short time Bellatrix just looked at him in silence, a myriad of questions running through her brain. She let her eyes wander about the cosy room for a few seconds, before finally coming to a conclusion. There was really only one thing to ask right now, "What exactly happened to me?" Her words were muttered darkly, almost devoid of any emotion. "All I can remember is that I—"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"—died," she breathily finished her sentence and dropped her gaze. "He... he killed me," Bellatrix whispered shakily, her eyes welling up, "the Dark Lord, he... he used the killing curse on me." She tried her best to hold back the tears, but couldn't. "I should be dead. The killing curse is supposed to kill everything that lives. So, how am I still alive?" The sound of her voice grew more desperate with every word she spoke. She balled herself up, hugging her knees tightly, as she quietly cried into them.

"And where is Basilius? Isn't he supposed to be here – to comfort me?"

She hiccoughed... and ceased to cry instantly.

_Why did I say that?_ she wondered bewilderedly. The words had just flown out of her without a second thought. She didn't know why but, somehow, they felt like the right thing to say. After all, he had been there for her, when she woke up after becoming a vampire. So, why wasn't he here this time? Did he not care? And why did she care? He was the one to get her into this mess. She didn't need him. She hated him. And she hated herself for missing him.

She groaned miserably. Why couldn't her mind and heart agree for once regarding that vampire?

Only now realising again that she wasn't alone, Bellatrix raised her head and placed her feet back on the ground while hastily wiping away the last remainders of her tears. After regaining her regal posture she looked expectantly at the man in front of her as if nothing had happened. Gregory, however, had only regarded her stoically. His smile was long gone, replaced by a serious expression.

"I am very sorry you had to go through that," he spoke, ignoring the little tantrum she just had. The witch was very thankful for that, even though she would never admit to it.

"Dying, verily, is no enjoyable experience," Greg went on sympathetically, his words catching Bellatrix' interest.

"So, I _did _die?", she looked at him emptily, her voice only a whisper, "then how is it that I am still alive?"

The benign smile returned to his face as he answered, "Well, technically, you are not 'still alive' – more like 'alive again', I'd say." That earned him a confused frown from the vampiress. "You see," he uncrossed his legs to bend forward and leaned on them with his elbows, "vampires are so called 'undead'. Naturally, they, as all living creatures, can be killed, with the slight difference, that the undead actually return to life." That certainly was new information to her.

"So, I won't stay dead no matter how often I am killed?" It was more of a realization on Bellatrix part than an actual question.

"Not quite. There, of course, are ways to permanently end a vampire's life, but they'd best be explained by Master Basilius," Greg answered regardless in a pleasantly chatty voice, "but for the most part you just brush it off and revive after some time. In fact, your heart started beating again within mere minutes of your arrival."

The witch nodded her understanding but then, again, furrowed her brows in bewilderment, "Wait, what do you mean by that? Are you saying I was—" She paused shortly. It felt weird to say it out loud. "—still dead when I arrived here? How exactly did I get here, then?" Her tone had something menacing to it.

Still smiling, Gregory simply pointed at the nightstand with all the calm in the world. Bellatrix followed the silent request and spotted a single small object lying on the bedside table.

"A hairpin?" she inquired monotonously and returned her gaze at him.

"It is actually a port key," he answered smugly, raising the finger he had used to point.

The witch just raised her eyebrow, unimpressed.

"When Voldemort returned, Master Basilius knew that he would free you eventually, so he enchanted the pin and put it on you," Greg started to explain with a pride in his voice that seemed totally unwarranted, "it's a one-way port key, bewitched to activate as soon as a great deal of magic would pour threw it."

Bellatrix lowered her eyes. His last words had hit her unexpectedly hard. She felt so much at once. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Betrayal.

"So, he knew the Dark Lord would—" She interrupted herself with a snort.

Gregory's smile grew more compassionate than ever before, "No, he didn't. It was a simple miscalculation." He chuckled a little and leaned back in his chair. "He assumed the amount of magic used to apparate would be enough to set it off. But clearly, it wasn't," the man continued with a sigh, "so, only when Voldemort blasted you with the Killing Curse did the port key activate and send you here." Another giggle escaped his throat. "It was quite a surprise when your dead body appeared out of nowhere back then."

Although it sent a shiver down her spine to have her dead body mentioned so casually, his words actually helped to ease her mind. She didn't know exactly why but it was a real relieve to her that Basilius hadn't sent her to her death knowingly. A small smile even pricked at the corner of her lips, but it vanished just as fast. Yet again she was put off by something Gregory had said.

"What do you mean with 'back then'? How long have I been here, exactly?"

Greg seemed to ponder the answer for a moment before he casually responded, "About five months."

Bellatrix froze completely. Seconds passed by in which the vampiress only stared at the man in front of her. He, as well, kept quiet for the time being to allow her to process this new and overwhelming information.

"FIVE MONTHS?!" she ultimately yelled out, "I've been here for five months?! How? Why?"

Greg laughed a little at her outburst.  
"Well, it's not unheard of that vampires rest for long periods of time. Since, being undead, time means practically nothing to them," the man grinned amused, "I think the longest a vampire ever slept was more than a cen—"

"Shut up," the witch cut in, grasping her head in frustration, "that's… that's too much."

"I'm sorry. I know this must come as a shock."

"Shut up!" she yelled again and shot him a pointed look, "just get out. Leave me alone."

Greg nodded and stood up from his chair. "As you wish." He went to leave the room but turned around before he did so, "If you need anything, simply call for me." And with those last words he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Bellatrix kept sitting on her bed in silence for several minutes, trying to wrap her head around the situation. At some point she lied down and curled herself to a ball.

Five months. Asleep for five months. Five months since the Dark Lord had killed her. Where was she supposed to go from here? What was she supposed to do now? She had nowhere to go, no purpose to fulfil. When the Dark Lord cast her out, any meaning to her live had been stripped from her. Her very existence became meaningless. And now, since she was a vampire, it would be so for all eternity.

She curled herself up even more as quiet sobs gradually filled the room.

_No!_

This couldn't be it. She wouldn't allow it to be. She had to do something – something to regain his favour, his trust… his affection.

Determined, she sat up again and wiped her cheeks clear of her tears.  
Now she only had to figure out a way to actually do it. The hatred he had shown her for being a vampire had been massive. It would require a great gesture to get back on his good side. So, what feat would be big enough? What would the Dark Lord want more than anything?

She mulled those questions over in her head again and again, trying to find an answer, and that's when it hit her. She knew what she needed to do, knew, what he wanted most.

_The boy!_

Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The boy who inexplicitly took away the Dark Lords power. If she could present the Potter boy to him, or better yet, kill him herself, he would most assuredly be pleased with her and accept her back to his side.

But she had to find the boy first. Where could he be? She took a glance at the calendar. June. The witch narrowed her eyes. Potter would be about 15 years old now. She sighed heavily. There was only one place he could be right now.

"Hogwarts," she muttered darkly.

That posed a problem. Security around Hogwarts was uncharacteristically high for a school. And even if she managed to get past it, there was still Dumbledore. She had to avoid his attention at all cost. It wouldn't be easy.

And she needed her wand. It had to be somewhere around here. She'd had it back at Malfoy-Manor, so it must've been transported here together with her. But as much as she looked around the room, she couldn't find it. However, she had a hunch who might know about its whereabouts.

"Gregory!" Bellatrix yelled, trying to sound as pathetic as possible, what, given her current circumstances, wasn't all too hard.

It only took seconds before the door flew open and Gregory entered the room, wearing his annoyingly gentle smile. "Yes, Madame Bellatrix?" he spoke in his kind voice, what only served to irk her even more.

"Where—," she stopped immediately, realizing that her tone was far too hostile to instil sympathy. She cleared her throat and started again, now trying to sound much more fragile, "W-Where is my wand?"

Greg's smile wavered for the fracture of a second before he replied calmly, "Master Basilius deemed it best for your wand to remain in my custody for the moment." Bellatrix gave him a queer look. "Rest assured that I will handle it with utmost care."

"I don't doubt that, but," the witch said quietly and lowered her head, kneading her hands anxiously, "I-I would feel much more comfortable, if I could hold onto it myself."

The man stared at the pathetic display the woman presented to him for a while, his compassion growing stronger every second. After a few more seconds he sighed deeply and turned to leave, "Just a moment."

Bellatrix lifted her gaze again, only barely managing to stifle a triumphant smirk.

Not much later Greg returned, holding a small case in his hands. She recognised the familiar shape of her wand through the clear glass. He sat down on the chair next to her bed and held the casket towards her, opening the lid in the process.

For a short moment she just stared at the piece of wood, before she hesitantly stretched out her arm and grabbed the wand. She took the magical object out of the case, examining it closely while gently caressing it. She was finally complete again.

"Thank you," she whispered, actually meaning it this time.

"You're welcome," Gregory smiled at her and stood up again, "but that stays our little secret, alright?" He winked and turned to leave the room.

Bellatrix watched him go and just before he reached the door, she raised her wand at him. "Petrificus totalus," she spoke and a flash of light left the tip of her weapon, hitting the kind man square in the back. His movements immediately froze and he tipped over, hitting the floor face first. The witch swiftly got up, a little surprised over her own actions. She had intended to use the Killing Curse on him, but something in the back of her head kept her from doing so.

Shrugging it off as a simple quirk of fate, she stepped closer to the unmoving body and bend down to get in his line of view.

"How did you not see this coming?" she teased coquettishly with a triumphant smirk plastered on her face. She let out a cackle as she hopped and danced around the room a little. "Well," she grabbed the sachet perched on the desk which, as she had assumed, contained more blood-vials, "you can give 'Master Basilius' my best regards." A wide, mocking smile crept its way on her face. "See you around," she sniggered, turned on the spot and disapparated with a crack.

* * *

Bellatrix reappeared in a dark back alley of Hogsmead and groaned dissatisfied over the unpleasant feeling of being pressed through a rubber tube. After dry retching she staggered towards the main street of the village, acutely focusing on staying in the shadows. A wasted effort, as it soon turned out. It was way too late, or early rather, for anyone to be out and about. That played greatly in her favour. The only problem was that it was already getting light out. Daybreak surely wasn't far off. She would have to hide for now.

With a quick look at the castle and its surroundings, she promptly decided that the Forbidden Forest would suffice as a hideout for now. The thicket of the trees would certainly spend enough shadow to protect her from the sunlight. So, the vampiress swiftly made her way through the village, still mostly moving within the shadows, for safety's sake.

When she made it to the edge of the settlement, something quite interesting, lying in a pile of trash a few metres away, caught her eye – the front page of an old edition of the Daily Prophet. The headline read:

"_Dolores Jane Umbridge replaces Albus Dumbledore as headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry!"_

"So, the old man isn't even in the school right now," Bellatrix giggled gleefully, "that makes things a lot easier." With renewed vigour the witch entered the Forbidden Forest with a playful skip in her step, just as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the mountainside in the distance.

She carried her good mood deep into the woods, not really paying attention where she was going. With the old oaf out of Hogwarts, it would be child's play to get to the boy. She would snatch him and bring him before her Lord and then, he would happily take her back. He would overlook what she had become and see her value for _who _she was, not _what _she was.

Immediately after that last thought, she skidded to a halt.

_See me for who I am? _She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. _Not hate me for what I am?_

She couldn't quite pinpoint it, but these thoughts somehow seemed familiar. Hating someone for what they were. Wasn't that exactly how _he _saw things? How he wanted her to think? How the pureblood society thought of…

Bellatrix violently shook her head, forcibly banning these traitorous thoughts from her mind.

Taking a step to resume to her self-imposed mission, she promptly came to a halt again as soon as she had looked up. Her inner debate, it seemed, had occupied her thoughts a bit too much, causing her to only realize now that she'd been surrounded by a horde of centaurs. A few had their bows at the ready, stretched to the stop, the arrows menacingly pointing at her. She slowly grabbed her wand, prepared to strike at any moment.

"What are you doing in our forest?" one of the horse-men, apparently their leader, spoke in a deep, demanding voice, "you have no business here." Bellatrix eyed them carefully. She was no idiot. She knew she couldn't take them all.

"You're right," she chose to comply and put her wand away, "I have no business with you.I only seek shelter until nightfall, then I'll be gone."

The centaur stared at her warily for a moment, "And why should I allow you to stay here?" The others stretched their bows even further. "We know who you are, _Madam Lestrange_," a mocking tone laid in his voice as he spoke her name, "the Dark Lord's lapdog. You despise us more than anyone, hate us because we don't fit in your picture of a perfect, pure world." He snorted disdainfully, "You are the worst kind of human." He raised his right arm to have his men prepare for the order to shoot her, when the witch raised her voice again.

"I am no human," she muttered darkly. It still felt strange to admit it, "Not anymore."

The leader of the half-breeds narrowed his lids and closed in on the raven-haired woman. She raised her head imperiously and when he looked into her gleaming, yellow eyes, his own widened in surprise.

"Lower your weapons," he withdrew his previous order and lowered his arm again.

"But... but Magorian, she is—"

"A vampire, yes," Magorian turned around with a stern look, "so, lower your weapons."

Hearing upon her true nature, all the centaurs gasped and did as they were told. The vampiress raised a brow in wonder. Their leader nodded his approval and turned back to Bellatrix. For a short while, the two of them only silently stared at each other.

"As much as I would like to end you right now, I'm afraid it would violate our treaty with the vampire race," Magorian broke the silence, regret clearly audible in his voice, "you are free to roam the forest." With those last muttered words, he turned around and, followed by his posse, galloped away into the thicket.

Bellatrix remained standing there, slightly confused.

So, the centaurs and vampires had a peace-treaty? Interesting. She would have to look into that later. But for now, her focus lied on finding a comfortable place to sit out the daylight. So, she made her way deeper into the trees, subconsciously moving closer to the castle.

After a little while she found a small space covered in moss, that seemed comfortable enough to sit on. That only left the problem of her current attire. She still wore the noble dress and tight corset she had changed into the night she returned to Malfoy-Manor. Which now, that she was aware of them, were quite unpleasant to wear.

So, she curtly decided to rip her corset apart. She took a deep breath of relieve before she tore her slim dress on the sides to free her legs.

_Much better_, she thought, genuinely smiling and let herself fall into the soft moss. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the cozy feeling of the cushy green patch beneath her. Yeah, she would definitely be able to endure this – maybe even get a few hours of sleep in. Although, she'd been sleeping for the past five months, so, perhaps, the idea was obsolete.

So, she just focused on the sound of the few birds singing a lovely melody, the subtle breeze, tenderly sweeping through the treetops and the wholesome fragrance of nearby flowers paired with the pleasant scent of the forest.

With time her soothing surroundings slowly took over and were about to gently carry her off into peaceful slumber.

"Not far now!" a distant shout, combined with the trampling of hooves, shook her out of her doze. She opened her eyes and furrowed her brows in the direction the noise had come from. "Just a little bit—," the voice, clearly a girl's, sounded again but was cut off mid-sentence. Her curiosity aroused, and, honestly, because of lack of something better to do, she followed the sound of hooves stomping the ground.

"I am Senior Undersecretary… you cannot – Unhand me, you animals… noooo!" another woman's voice shrieked. She saw a red flash in the far distance – somebody had used magic. The panicked cries of the woman grew steadily quieter as she, most likely, was carried away by the centaurs.

She was still too far away to understand all the other voices clearly. But she didn't need to, to know that the murmurs of the horse-men sounded angry.

"We're not going to say anything like that!" a boy shouted, "we know you didn't do what you did because we wanted you to—"

"They came here unasked, they must pay the consequences!"

A loud roar sounded.

"They can join the woman!"

"You said you didn't hurt the innocent!" the girl from before shouted, her voice quivering. She was crying. "We haven't done anything to hurt you, we haven't used wands or threats, we just want to go back to school, please let us go back—"

Bellatrix stopped abruptly.

A prominent smell had caught her nose. A smell she was very familiar with – the smell of blood.

She suddenly felt a great thirst; her throat was drying up. Her head began to hurt and her vision became hazy. With every sniff the urge to just follow the delicious scent and tear into whatever lay at its end grew more and more.

Grasping her head, she remembered the satchel she'd brought with her and quickly produced a blood vial from it. Hastily the witch removed the cork and gulped down the desired liquid. As the delicious drink slit down her itching throat she felt instant relieve, but it was far from enough. The intense aroma of blood was too overwhelming as to be satisfied by such a small dose. So, she pulled out another vial and drained it in one swoop. And another; and another. Only after seven additional bottles she finally felt satisfied. Panting, she bent over and leaned on her knees.

What was that? She was certainly no stranger to these urges she felt every time the smell of blood reached her nose, but they had never been this strong before. It was so overpowering, so intense – like something inside her tried to take over her senses and mind. In one word, it felt terrifying.

Bellatrix shook her head vigorously to ban these thoughts from her mind. It was neither the time nor the place to think about something stupid like that. So, with a deep sigh, she erected herself again and scanned her surroundings. The trampling of the centaur's hooves had turned rather quiet and was fading further with every second. She couldn't hear anything else, except for the typical sounds of the woods. But she could still discern the beguiling scent of blood in the air, so, she decided to follow it.

The witch only had to take a few steps to make out voices not too far away. From what she could gather, they apparently were a group of students who seemed to desperately want to get to London for whatever reason. So, she didn't quite listen to them. Instead, she kept her focus on that alluring aroma that bewitched her senses. As if hypnotised, the vampiress crept ever closer towards the source of this most delicious of fragrances.

Hiding behind a big tree – only a few metres now separated her from the teenagers – she took a close look at the students. They were a group of six. A ginger boy and girl, obviously siblings, two dark haired boys and a blonde girl. But her greatest interest lay with the last member of the party, a brunette girl. She was covered in blood, not hers, according to the scent, but it didn't do anything to mask the fact that the bewitching perfume she had been smelling the last couple minutes came from that girl's blood.

Bellatrix took in another waft of the overwhelmingly prepossessing odour. Every little hair on her body immediately stood at attention, a spark shooting through her body. Her eyes developing a tunnel view, only seeing the young witch in front of her. Her fingers clenched around the tree she was hiding behind, her nails digging into the bark. Her teeth fletched and fangs bared, she was ready to pounce on her prey at any moment.

"It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it?"

Again, the witch froze completely. All her bloodlust gone instantly.

_You-Know-Who… The Dark Lord… Why would they—_

Suddenly, it dawned on her. Was that why they were trying to get to London? Were those kids planning to fight her Lord? But where? And why? Who would be stupid enough to…?

But she didn't have to look far for the answers. As she took a closer look at the bespectacled boy, she recognized the scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning, on his forehead.

Harry Potter. The boy who lived. He was right there, within her grasp. All she had to do was to raise her wand and cast the Killing Curse and it would all be over.

And yet, she refrained from doing it. Those kids weren't trying to go to London on a hunch. No, the Dark Lord must've something planned. He tried to lure him to the capital, into a trap. As much as she would like to end the boy right now and return to her Master's side, she wouldn't take away his fun of capturing and killing Potter himself. But she wanted to be there when he did.

The teenagers had meanwhile mounted a bunch of Thestrals and she watched them fly off.

Now, the only thing left for her was to find out where they were going. London, of course, but where exactly? There were only two places where they could have been headed: Diagon Alley or the Ministry of Magic.

However, since there was nothing of significance in Diagon Alley, and thus, no reason for the Dark Lord to lure him there, they must've been going to the Ministry of Magic.

So, with renewed vigour and a smile of anticipation on her lips, she turned on the spot and disapparated, once more experiencing the unpleasant feeling of being shoved through a rubber tube. But this time, she didn't care much, for soon, she would be reunited with her Lord.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**

**Sorry for the long wait. I hope I'll get the next one done faster.  
**

**A big thank's to everyone reading, following and reviewing. **


	4. The Beast Within

The giant bells of Big Ben rang in the new hour. Bellatrix, leaning on the banister atop the tower, contorted her face in annoyance. Not only because those damn bells were awfully loud, but also because those stupid kids had yet to show up and she grew tired of waiting. She let her eyes wander over the city's rooftops, bathed in the pallid light of the almost full moon. A drawn-out sigh escaped her throat. How much longer would those wretched brats need to get here? If she remembered correctly, Thestrals were supposed to be quite fast flyers, so they shouldn't be too far off anymore.

With another deep sigh she sat down next to her satchel, she'd neatly leaned against the wall. She reached inside and fumbled around for a bit, before she produced a vial filled with blood.

"Last one, huh?" she mused, as she regarded the little bottle with bored eyes.

Somehow, that fact made her nervous. She remembered how long it took for her to get used to drinking blood. She had refused to drink it for several days at first, maybe even weeks – she couldn't recall exactly. Only after almost starving to death and being force-fed, had she reluctantly started to drink it. But only ever out of these bottles. She eyed the vial in her hand while slowly turning it.

For the past fourteen years she had been provided with blood whenever she needed it. However, with this last bottle gone, she would have to get it on her own.

With yet another sigh Bellatrix uncorked the bottle and drained its contents in one go. No use in postponing the inevitable. Next time she needed blood, she'd have to get it directly from someone. The thought somehow made her feel uneasy but the vampiress had no time to dwell on it. In the far distance she finally saw the long-awaited students. The horse-like Thestrals flapped their wings in the night sky, slowly lowering altitude to land in the streets of London.

The kids disappeared somewhere in between the houses of the city. Bellatrix apparated to the nearest rooftop and, ignoring the unpleasant feeling in her stomach, walked up to the edge and peered down to the scene below. The Thestrals, having been unmounted, were already taking off again on their own, while the children tried to squeeze themselves into a telephone booth. There was hardly enough room but somehow, they managed to fit. The Potter-boy inserted a coin and punched in some numbers on the telephone.

_Idiots, _she thought repulsively, _as if entering the Ministry would be that simple at this hour._

But to her great surprise the inside of the phone booth actually started to move and disappeared into the ground.

_Strange._

Although, giving it a little more thought, it actually wasn't. After all, it was a trap set by her Lord to catch the boy, so it would only make sense for the group to get into the Ministry with ease. And, of course, that would make getting inside much simpler for her, as well.

Unfortunately, she didn't have any coins on her – muggle or wizard. Luckily, she knew another nearby entrance. Admittedly, it was a bit disgusting to flush oneself down a toilet, but she was left without any other options. Apparating was definitely out of the question. It would make too much noise and could possibly even set off some kind of alarm spell.

So, the vampire made her way to the public toilet, she'd have to use to gain entrance into the Ministry. However, when she first stepped inside the restroom, she immediately regretted it. The floor was lined with torn toilet paper. A puddle of what she could only hope was water spanned across the room. A stench the likes of which the witch had never thought she'd have to endure in her life violated her nostrils. Only due to her exceptional self-control she managed not to puke on the spot.

As fast as she possibly could, Bellatrix raced into one of the stalls, eager to leave this hotbed of filth behind her. Hesitantly, she stepped into the toilet and hastily pulled the handle to flush herself into the Ministry.

A moment later the vampiress gladly took in a waft of the odourless air that filled the spacious hall. Well, not entirely odourless. She could still smell the faint scent of the students lingering in the air; what worked greatly in her favour. All she had to do was follow her nose and they'd lead her directly to her Lord.

But, after only a single step, she stopped again. The heeled shoes she was wearing made a loud clacking noise. Without even wasting a thought on it, the witch discarded them. She thought them uncomfortable anyway, so it was no great loss at all.

Now she could finally focus on what she was here to do.

Following the scent of the kids, Bellatrix soon reached the elevators. Only one of them had been used and was currently located on the lowest floor.  
She recalled the Department of Mysteries being there and furrowed her brows in thought.

_Why would the Dark Lord go out of his way to lure the boy there? Couldn't he have just killed him anywhere?_

But then it dawned on her.

_The prophecy! He wants Potter to get the prophecy for him. _

A wicked smirk formed on her lips.

_Well, I better hurry, then. To make sure the prophecy reaches him._

As on cue the elevator doors slid open. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the downmost level.  
The ride down only took a couple of seconds. The scent of the kids got a little stronger, telling the vampiress that she was catching up. Following her nose further she walked down the hall that stretched out before her and reached a plain black door. It sprung open upon approach and Bellatrix stepped inside.

She found herself in a circular room with doors at set intervals all around. Three of them were marked with a fiery cross. The one behind her fell shut and suddenly the room began to spin around her. The witch immediately closed her eyes to shield herself from the fiery crosses and blue torches, that were lined along the wall.

"Well, that explains the markings," she murmured to herself when she reopened her eyes, after the room had stopped rotating, "quite clever, I have to say."

Taking a whiff, she turned to one of the black doors and approached it, sporting a smirk. As much as she loathed the fact of being a vampire, this heightened sense of smell really came in handy.

She pushed the door open and found herself in a rectangular room. A brilliant, dazzling light flashed her eyes and she had to squint for a few seconds to give them time to adjust. Bookcases and desks were placed along the length of the room. Every free space was covered with clocks, which filled the room with an obnoxious ticking noise. Nonetheless, the sight of all the different kinds of clocks, paired with the beautiful, diamond-sparkling light was truly magnificent. So, she stopped for a bit to enjoy the marvellous display.

For a little bit too long, it seemed, as the door at the far end of the room suddenly flung open and a very rushed-looking boy stumbled in, holding the door open for, she guessed, the other students.

Thinking quickly, Bellatrix dived into the nearest door to the side and quietly shut it behind her, pressing one ear against it to hear what was going on outside.  
Though muffled, she could hear a lot of running around, spells being shouted and at some point, breaking glass, which repeated over and over again.

Bellatrix, her fingers itching, could hardly wait to join the fray. But right as she wanted to open the door, she noticed the sound of footsteps growing louder, heading directly for her. With a quick leap the vampire jumped behind the desk just in time before the door burst open and, after three people entering the room, slammed shut again.

"Collo—" she heard the voice of a girl attempt to cast a spell, but before she could, the door was flung open again and two more people entered.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" both of them yelled, a triumphant undertone in their voice.

Bellatrix was a little startled as one of the kids suddenly sailed over the desk and landed right in front of her – luckily, faced away from her. She heard one of them collide with a bookshelf and a rain of books coming down on them. The witch, grabbing her wand, prepared herself to finally join the action, when something stopped her. Something she was more than familiar with.

The smell of blood.

She took a deep breath through the nose, taking in as much of this marvellous scent as she possibly could. The vampire swallowed hard as her heart-rate accelerated. She remembered that ravishing odour only too well. It was the same she had smelled in the Forbidden Forest earlier today, only even more intense. Her throat dried up; her thirst grew stronger by the second. The surging desire to sink her teeth into the source of this magnificent perfume pulsated through her whole body. She clutched her violently throbbing head with her shaking fingers, trying to fight this almost unbearable sensation inside her.

But it was too much to handle. The urge for blood, the desire to hunt simply overwhelmed her. And as her vampiric instincts took over, her mind blanked out.

* * *

She knew it. She knew this was going to happen. She'd told him that it could be a trap, but he wouldn't listen. And now, here they were, running away from the Death Eaters, fighting for their very lives.

Of course, Hermione understood Harry's motivation to come here; Sirius was his only family, after all. But it could've been handled so much better than to just plunge in head first. If they had paused for a moment to think things through, they might've not ended up in such a precarious situation.

But now was not the time to think about 'what ifs'. Right now, they had to focus on their survival.

Harry, after spotting the two Death Eaters coming from the room up front, veered to the left and headed straight towards an office door – Hermione and Neville close behind.  
The moment they passed the threshold, Harry slammed the door shut. Hermione turned around immediately to enchant the door shut.

"Collo—"  
She was cut off halfway through, as the door burst open again and their two pursuers stepped inside, raising their wands.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" the pair cried in triumph.

Hermione felt the impact of the spell and was lifted from her feet. She collided with the bookshelf behind her and was showered with a load of tomes falling out of it. The sharp edge of one of the heavier ones hit her hard on the temple. Her skin was cut open and she could already feel her blood trickling out of the wound.

"WE'VE GOT HIM!" yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry, "IN AN OFFICE OFF—"

"Silencio!" Hermione cried and the man's voice died out. He tried to keep shouting, but no sound would leave his mouth. The other dark wizard shoved him aside and raised his wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry, reacting fast, fired his spell at the criminal. His arms and legs snapped together and he fell forwards, face down onto the rug to Harry's feet, stiff as a board and unable to move.

"Well done, Ha—" Hermione wanted to compliment her best friend but was cut off, as she saw the Death Eater, she had just silenced make a slashing movement towards her out of the corner of her eyes. She closed them and readied herself for the impact… that never came. Confused, she opened her eyes again to see that the evil sorcerer's gaze had shifted to something else.

For lack of better judgement, Hermione followed his line of sight, only to be dumbstruck herself. There, behind the office's desk, stood a tall, stunning woman. Her long, thick, shining hair fell down her shoulders in a cascade of onyx silk. Her long black dress wrapped itself perfectly around her hour-glass shaped figure. She was a picture of perfect beauty. Unfortunately, she knew exactly who that woman was: Bellatrix Lestrange – a Death Eater. She remembered her from a picture she saw in the Daily Prophet after the mass breakout of Azkaban.

But for now, the fact that she was one of Voldemort's fiercest followers wasn't even her greatest concern.  
It was her face that filled her heart with fear.

Although, surely gorgeous under normal circumstances, it currently was distorted with something Hermione couldn't quite place.

The eyes shone with an eerie, menacing, yellow gleam; the white of her eyes had turned black, what only served to intensify the almost golden glare. Her teeth were bared and, she might be mistaken, but her canines seemed to be longer than usual, giving them more of a fang-like appearance than anything else.

Something wasn't right here. Why did she look like that? What happened to her? What _was _she?  
The girl's brain went into overdrive, trying to make sense of it all.  
But whatever it was, it struck pure fear into her very core.

And what made matters even worse, was that the sinister witch was staring right at her.

In search of encouragement from her best friend, Hermione took a glance at Harry. Their eyes met but, to her great dismay, he seemed just as bewildered as her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the still silent Death Eater waving his wand around and ultimately pointing it towards Bellatrix.

But before the curse even had the time to form, Hermione sprang into action. Why, though, she couldn't explain herself.

"Expelliarmus!"

The dark wizard's wand flew out of his hand towards the brunette. The young witch reached out to catch it, but immediately stopped short, startled. Bellatrix, from across the whole room, had pounced on the Death Eater and pinned him to the ground, choking him with one hand. Hermione just stood there and watched in horror, her body trembling with fear, as the man's body started writhing under the black witch's grip and ultimately stopped moving.

The brunette took an involuntary step back and tripped over the books that had fallen down earlier and crashed into the bookshelf again. That snapped Bellatrix' attention away from her victim and back onto Hermione. The girl froze the moment those eerie, golden eyes laid themselves upon her.

"Stupefy!"

A red jet of magical light hit Bellatrix on the back of her head. Hermione's heart sank, when she realized, that the spell had been cast by her best friend. Bellatrix promptly turned around and leaped over to Harry, slamming the boy into the wall behind him.

"NO! STOP!" Hermione cried in terror and raised her trembling arm and shakily pointed her wand at the dark witch.  
Not letting go of her best friend, Bellatrix turned towards the girl.

"L-Let him go," the brunette demanded, her voice quivering and she tried to force herself to stop shaking – with little success.

A few, painfully long seconds passed, in which they only stared at each other. Hermione was just about to cast a curse, when another voice stopped her.

"B-Belladrix Ledrange!"  
It was Neville, nose broken and pointing his own wand at the raven-haired woman, shaking even more than Hermione was.

Bellatrix' reaction to the new threat was almost instantaneous. She tightened her grip on Harry and threw him to the other boy. The two collided and fell to the ground, losing their consciousness.

The brunette could only watch in horror, as it slowly dawned on her, that now, she was all alone with that maniacal woman. She saw her already coming closer out of the corner of her eye. Her heart clenched. Tears filled her eyes.

She knew she couldn't beat the witch. She knew there was no way out, no clever solution to slip out of this situation.  
That was it. This was the end.

But she wouldn't give up without a fight. She mustered up all the courage she had left and raised her wand on Bellatrix… but it was already too late. The raven-haired witch had already reached her and simply grasped her wrist and pushed it against the bookshelf behind her. The other hand gently grabbed her chin and turned her head to the side, while Bellatrix' face came steadily closer.

Tears started to roll down Hermione's face when the older witch stuck out her tongue and touched her cheek with it, proceeding to lick the side of her face all the way up to her temple, where she felt a sharp sting. Only now did she remember that she had been cut open there by a book earlier. She had even forgotten that she was still bleeding. She felt Bellatrix' lips softly enclosing her wound and tenderly sucking the blood out of it.

And, suddenly, like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place, everything made sense to Hermione. The yellow eyes, the fang-like canines, her inhuman strength and now, the blood-drinking.

_She's… a vampire?!_

Hermione's eyes widened in panic and her breathing accelerated. The grip on her chin loosened and the soft lips detached themselves from her scalp. She turned her head back towards her attacker, who stared right back at her. Another torrent of terror surged through her. Her body tensed up, frozen in fear.

But as soon as those gleaming, golden eyes captivated her own, something strange happened. All the fright, all the panic and unease she had just felt, was gone in an instant – replaced by a feeling of tranquillity. Her muscles relaxed, her breathing calmed down and her heart rate stabilized.  
A pleasantly cool hand laid itself on her cheek and she willingly leaned into the soothing touch. As if in trance she brushed her brown locks back to expose the soft skin of her neck, silently inviting the vampiress to sink her teeth into her flesh.  
Bellatrix gave a gentle caress with her thumb and slowly moved closer, brushing her cheek against Hermione's in the process. Shortly after, the brunette felt the chilly breeze of the woman's breath stroking her neck bow. Smooth, delicate lips touched down on her skin, elongated canines readily scratching on the slick surface.  
Hermione moaned in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the teasing teeth to finally strike. She grabbed onto the witch in front of her, closed her eyes and held her breath for the coming bite.

"Stupefy!"

Two red flashes hit the vampire from the side, both sending her flying and snapping Hermione out of whatever weird trance she had been in. However, before she even fully realized what was happening right now, someone had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the office, slamming the door shut behind them.

The bang of the closing door brought the girl's mind back to its full mentality and she quick-wittedly sprang into action.

"Colloportus!"

The office door magically locked itself with a squelching noise and not a second too soon, as they heard someone ram against it from inside.

Out of breath, the three students stared at the door.

"What the hell was that?" panted Harry confused, seeking Hermione's eyes.

"B-Belladrix L-Ledrange," Neville shakily managed to get out, all colour drained from his face.

"Yeah, I know," the boy who lived responded a little too harshly for Hermione's taste, "I meant, what was going on with her? She was like… like an animal!"

"I…," the brunette started, breathing heavily and looked at the two boys, "I think she's a—" She was interrupted by an especially loud wail and the sound of a table being toppled over. Only now did they remember the still deformed Death Eater, mindlessly rampaging through the room.

"Maybe we should get out of here first," Harry suggested and the others agreed without hesitation, for at that moment they heard the sound of breaking wood and saw a hand sticking through the office door, "and fast."

As quickly as their feet would let them the students sprinted through the door that led to the dark, circular room they had been through before and slammed it shut behind them.

To their surprise, the room didn't start spinning like it did before. Scanning through it soon revealed the reason. Another door was wide open and, in the threshold, Hermione saw her other three friends: Ginny, Luna, and Ron.

"Luna!" Harry yelled and ran towards them, "Ginny, Ron! Are you alright?"

Hermione followed her best friend's example and approached the group as well. Relieve washed over her as they seemed fairly unharmed. Only Ginny was panting heavily and holding one of her ankles. When she came closer, she realized Ron talking gibberish and some dark liquid trickling out of the corner of his mouth. He must've been hit by some curse. But aside from that, he seemed to be alright.

"We saw Uranus up close, Harry," she heard him say, giggling feebly, "get it? We saw Uranus."

_Yes. He is definitely alright, _Hermione thought and shook her head, a small smile tucking at her lips.

Luna, meanwhile kept on explaining what had happened to them. Apparently, trying to safe her, the blonde accidentally hit Ginny's foot with the Reductor Curse, resulting in the fracture. Ron, as she had deduced already, had been hit by an unknown spell. Luna herself, luckily, seemed totally fine. A little bit out of it, maybe, and scared, but given the situation they were in, that was only natural.

Suddenly, another door of the dark room burst open. Hermione snapped her head towards it and again, fear sparked inside her. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, standing there, her eerie, golden eyes once more focused on the brunette, fangs shining in the blue light of the torches. She crouched down and started to slowly walk towards them with elegant steps, almost giving her the look of a panther ready to pounce on its prey.

"What's with her?" the airy voice of Luna asked confused.

"I-I think she is a vampire," Hermione stuttered shakily and stepped backwards towards the door, "I-I think she is after my blood." Her voice almost broke.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed at her from the side in a hushed whisper. The girl turned to him and saw him nod at the door behind the vampiress. It was closed. Hermione understood and looked back at her best friend, both of them readying their wands. They took a deep breath and nodded.

"Stupefy!" they both yelled, jets of red light shooting towards Bellatrix. "Now!"

The six students made a beeline for the door out of the room and slammed it shut behind them. Breathing heavily, they were sprawled across the floor.

"Alright. She's got a one in twelve chance to get to us," Harry panted and sat upright, "we would have to be awfully unlucky for her to pick the right one."

"Would somebody please explain what the bloody hell just happened?!" Ginny burst out weakly, holding her wounded ankle and looked at Hermione, "I mean, is she really a vampire?"

"Yes," Hermione answered immediately, "I'm quite sure she is."

"How do you recon?" the redhead questioned further.

Hermione looked at her, a little shaken by the memory, "Her eyes. Her canines. Her inhuman strength." She shuddered visibly and touched the wound on her temple, "And she… she sucked my blood."

"Ha ha ha – Bellatrix sucks," Ron chuckled stupidly.

Ginny groaned exasperated. "So, it's not enough that they are the most notorious and dangerous criminals out there. Now they even got a vampire on their side?!"

"I don't think Bellatrix is on their side, exactly," Harry disagreed and shared a brief look with Hermione, "we saw her kill one of them earlier."

"Is she on our side, then?" Luna asked, aloof as always, yet with a slightly hopeful undertone.

"No," Hermione answered in a hollow voice, "I believe, right now, she can't really determine between friend or foe. At the moment she's only fixated on… me – on getting my blood."

"Why yours, though?" Ginny through in the question, Hermione would just love to have the answer to.

Instead, she just looked at her friend, welled up. "I don't know."

An oppressive silence fell over the group.

Suddenly, they heard the muffled sound of something breaking on the floor, only now remembering that they were still being followed.

"Whatever," Harry was the first one to find his voice again and got up from the ground, "we need to get out of here." He went over to Ron and picked him up. "Luna, Neville. You help Ginny. Hermione, come help me with Ron."

Hermione didn't question her best friend's order and did as she was told.

Together they made their way to the door, the other three right behind. Harry opened it a crack and peeked into the dark room.

"It's empty," he whispered, "but there's another door still open. Bellatrix can't be far."

Hermione's gut twisted.

"So, let's head for the next door over, just to be safe," he suggested and got collective nods in return.

Harry put his hand on the doorknob and Hermione braced herself.

"Now!" he yelled and threw the door open.

The six students rushed into the dark room, a little awkwardly, since they had to basically carry two of them.

As they reached the targeted door, Hermione risked a look through the other open door and her heart clenched. Right next to the doorframe stood Bellatrix Lestrange, staring right at her. She hadn't left the room; she only must've kept the door open to prevent the room from spinning.

"Hurry," Hermione said in a hollow voice, as Bellatrix started to close in on them, "RUN!"

But there was no escaping her. Within a fraction of a second the vampire was upon them, already reaching out a hand to grasp Hermione. However, she stopped abruptly, when yet another door flung open and three Death Eaters, led by Lucius Malfoy, walked in.

"Bellatrix?" he said surprised, what only earned him an angry snarl from her. "Hmph. Whatever," he drawled and turned to his two companions, "get Potter and the Prophecy. Kill the rest." He returned his gaze to Bellatrix, "I will deal with the traitor."

The two Death Eaters immediately sprang into action. Hermione and the others were trying to cram themselves through the doorframe. Harry, who was holding the Prophecy, stayed at the end of the group to keep their enemies from firing curses towards them.

Hermione had a hard time getting the squirming and stupidly giggling Ron over the threshold. When she finally managed, she turned around to aid Harry, but she didn't have to. To her great confusion, Bellatrix had flung herself between the students and the Death Eaters, effectively blocking the way for the latter.

Harry hastily stumbled into the room and Hermione reached for the door. However, instead of shutting it right away, she held in for a moment and stared at the vampire's back.

"Th-Thank you," she mumbled breathlessly, slammed the door shut and sealed it with the Colloportus Charm.

"Are you really sure she's not on our side?" Luna asked while she carefully set Ginny down on the floor.

"Yes, I'm sure. Maybe she just… wants us all to herself?" Hermione answered, "you know, like a predator protecting its prey."

"Well, whatever the reason. If she keeps kicking Death Eater asses, I won't complain," Ginny chipped in and received chuckles from the whole group.

Something crashed against the door, startling the students.

"It's locked, damn it!" a muffled male voice cursed.

"Doesn't matter. There are other ways in," another said, before they heard footsteps moving away.

Hermione took a look around the room and, indeed, there were several doors lined along its four walls.

"Come on, we need to seal them off!" Harry urged, but Luna, Neville and Hermione were already well on their way.

Systematically, they worked through the room, sealing the adjacent doors one by one. Luna was just about to seal the last one, when it was blasted open, flinging the blonde girl across the room. She landed on a table, slid over it and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Four Death Eaters filed into the room and made a beeline for Harry. He narrowly dodged their attempt to catch him and ran back up the room.

Hermione, meanwhile, noticed Ron staggering back to his feet and tottering drunkenly towards the tank in the middle of the room she hadn't paid attention to until now.

"Hey, Harry, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird?"

"Ron, get out of the way, get down—," Harry yelled but it only hit deaf ears.

Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at the tank, "Acci—"

"Expelliarmus!"

The redhead's wand flew out of his hand directly towards Hermione. She caught it out of mid-air and looked apologetic at her friend, "I'm sorry, Ron, but this is for the—"  
Before she could finish her sentence, a red jet of light hit Ron square in the chest, knocking him back and onto the floor.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

"RON!"

"WATCH OUT!" Ginny screamed in panic, unable to move, as a surge of red flashes flew across the room, all aimed at the teenagers.

Hermione threw herself on the floor and thus managed to escape the flood of curses. Ginny and Neville to her left and right, unfortunately, were not that lucky. Both of them were hit in the face by one of the spells, fell down and laid there, unmoving.

Despair started to creep its way into Hermione's heart. There was no chance for them to get away safely. They were outnumbered and clearly outmatched. There was no clever solution, no smart way to escape. This is where they would meet their end.

She looked at Harry, crying.  
He looked right back at her, fear plainly visible in his face.  
But despite the hopeless situation they were in, he somehow managed to flash her an encouraging smile.

"HEY!" he yelled as loud as he could and stormed towards the door the Death Eaters had come in from, "IF YOU WANT THE PROPHECY, COME AND GET IT!"  
He somehow managed to pull through the four dark wizards and rushed out of the room. The criminals shared short, confused looks and sprinted after him.

Hermione, yet again with widened eyes, stared after him while pushing herself up from the floor.

"Harry, you idiot!" she said to the empty room and got back on her feet. She wiped away the tears and started running.

But a loud noise behind her stopped her again and she turned around.

The door leading to the dark, circular room had been torn off its hinges and thrown a few meters through the air, before it crashed down on the floor, scarcely missing Ron. And with it came Lucius Malfoy, who had touched down hard only a second prior to the door. He growled and looked back to the room he had come from.  
Hermione followed his gaze and there, in the doorframe, stood none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, eyes burning with fury.

"Just look at you, Bellatrix," Lucius drawled spiteful as he got back on his feet, "look at what you've become. You were once his finest follower, his most loyal servant." He scoffed mockingly. "But now you are nothing more than a beast – a mindless wild animal." He raised his wand at his sister in law. "Oh, how rich he will reward me, when I bring him your corpse. Avada—"

"Stupefy!"

The red jet hit Malfoy's shoulder, almost knocking him over.

Hermione stood there, petrified, wand raised and breathing heavily. She had no idea why she'd done it. Logic told her that she should've just run away, to just turn the other way and let them fight each other. Because no matter who the victor, it would have meant one less enemy to fight.  
But when Lucius Malfoy spoke the Killing Curse, her body had moved on its own.

Said man's eyes were now on the young witch, his face contorted with rage.

"You dare attack me?!" he spat in a vile, irate whisper-scream, "you dare attack me, you FILTHY MUDBLOOD!?"  
He raised his wand, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The curse soared across the room, bathing it in green light.

Hermione, struck with fear, could only watch it closing in on her.  
However, before the curse reached her, something hit her hard from the side. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she felt something break in her chest. Upon hitting the ground, she gasped audibly and reached for her aching side.

Her pain was soon forgotten, though, as she once again looked directly into Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes; the yellow glowing irises and black sclerae just as eerie as before. But the dark witch averted her eyes and looked at Lucius, fangs bared. She took a slow step towards the blond man, placing herself firmly between him and Hermione.

_She really _is_ protecting me!_

Lucius spat on the ground before him, sporting a look of disgust.

"Now you are even protecting this scum?" he hissed viciously, face mad with fury, "you are a disgrace for the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix snarled at him and took another step forward, ready to strike.

Hermione watched their exchange carefully and grabbed her wand tighter.

Lucius, meanwhile, raised his own at Bellatrix. Just as he opened his mouth to voice his curse, the vampiress pounced on him.

The girl raised her wand.

"Flipendo!"

The spell hit Bellatrix square in the back and she tripped, crashing full-force into Lucius, uncontrolled.

Hermione seized this chance, stood up and sprinted into the room, Harry had gone to earlier.

However, when she entered it, she lost her footing and fell down some stairs.  
Upon hitting the ground, the brunette gasped in pain, as she felt an almost unbearable sting from her broken ribs.

"Hermione, are you alright?" a voice she knew asked as its owner approached her.  
She looked up and, as expected, saw Nymphadora Tonks kneeling beside her.

"Wha-What are you doing here?" Hermione asked confused and winced a bit, when Tonks helped her sit up.

"We're here to save you, of course," Dora answered and put Hermione's arm around her shoulder, to aid her stand up.

Hermione took a look around and noticed they were in the room with the giant stone-arch sitting on a dais in its centre. But what was more important to her now, was the battle that had broken out in here. Left and right there were members of the Order engaged in combat with Death Eaters. She spotted Harry aiding Sirius, who had taken on two of them at once. Just a few metres further Lupin was fighting another one, as well were Kingsley and Madeye. Relieve washed over her; they were saved.

Another stinging pain to her side brought her back from her thoughts.

"Ah!" she gasped as she winced once again.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Tonks asked, worry deeply edged into her face, as she put the girl down and leaned her against the dais, to provide a little cover from the ongoing battle.

"Yes," Hermione wheezed holding her side, "I think Bellatrix Lestrange broke some ribs, when she saved me from Lucius Malfoy."

Nymphadora, who was just about to raise Hermione's shirt to get a better look at her injury, stopped abruptly and stared at the younger girl, eyes wide in bewilderment.

"She… What?"

"I know it sounds… mad, but that's what happened. When Malfoy cast the Killing Curse at me, she threw herself on me and pushed me out of the way," Hermione explained, but Tonks seemed everything else than convinced.

"And why would she do that?"

"Well, I guess she's not really herself right now," Hermione kept going, what made the other girl raise an eyebrow, "I-I think she is a vampire, and I think she is after my blood, what makes her behave like an animal, for some reason."

Tonks started to giggle despite the serious situation they were in. Hermione gave her a queer look.

"You do know how ridiculous that sounds, right?" Dora chuckled and palmed the brunette's cheek, "you probably misread the situation due to the stress of fighting for your life. It happens to the best of us."

Although those words were meant to comfort her, Hermione couldn't help but be offended by them. Furiously, she thrashed her head out of the older one's palm and readied herself to lash out. But all the retorts she had laid out in her mind remained stuck in her throat. With the colour draining from her face, she watched Bellatrix Lestrange walking down the steps towards the two of them; her eyes, again, fixed on Hermione.

"Th-Then _you_ tell me, what she is," the girl managed to get out in a frightened whisper.

Nymphadora furrowed her brows and turned around. Upon seeing the new threat closing in, she stood up and readied her wand. Bellatrix apparently acknowledged her as an obstacle and shifted her focus from Hermione to Dora. The vampiress fletched her teeth and jumped on her niece, who only just managed to repel her with a stunning spell.

"Run, Hermione!" Tonks yelled and turned to the teenager, "get out of here!"

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. In an instant she was on her feet, trying to get as much distance between her and Bellatrix as possible. So determined in her task, she even forgot the battle going on around her. But the regret for doing so soon hit her like a truck, in the form of a strayed stunning-spell to her wounded side. She screamed in pain and fell to her knees.

That seemed to trigger Bellatrix' protective instincts. Not even two seconds after Hermione hit the ground, the dark witch shot past her towards Sirius, who seemed to have redirected the nasty spell to guard himself.

Too late he realized the oncoming danger. She grabbed the unsuspecting wizard and wrestled him to the ground. His arm bend unnaturally as it hit the floor and a toe-curling cracking noise resounded in the room.

The other Death Eaters took this opportunity and started to fire an onslaught of curses at Sirius, as well as Harry. He tried his best to defend himself and also, simultaneously, shield his godfather from the attacks.

Bellatrix, meanwhile, who seemed to have no interest in Sirius any more, now that he was brought down, had locked her gaze on Hermione again. But yet again her focus changed, when one of the Death Eater's curses hit her shoulder. With a scream, that sounded more like a ferocious beast, than an actual human being, she pounced on the criminals.

Now relieved from fighting, Harry ran to his godfather and kneeled down beside him. Nymphadora rushed past Hermione and joined the two, while the other Order members kept fighting on the opposite side of the room.

Hermione watched as Bellatrix tore through the Death Eaters, who rigorously tried to fight her off.

_She is too much of an irrational factor._

Her look wandered through the room, over Harry, Sirius, and Dora, then further to the other members.  
She sighed.

_They can't focus on their fights, if she keeps interfering._

Her eyes sank to the floor beside her, where a rather sharp stone-shard rested. She picked it up and glanced at Bellatrix.

_I… have to take her out of the equation._

With her resolve steeled, she stood back up, ignoring the sting in her ribs and took a deep breath.

"I must be mad," she whispered to herself, firmly grasped the stone-shard in her hand and cut open her arm. Blood started to spill and she held up her wounded arm, seeking Bellatrix with her eyes. It startled her quite a bit, when she noticed the vampiress already looking at her. For a few seconds they only stared at each other, then Hermione ran.

"Hermione, what are you doing?!" somebody yelled after her, but she couldn't decipher who it was. Her mind was only focused on one thing now: Running away from the predator hunting her.

She sprinted up the stairs and out of the door. She was back in the dark circular room, but paid it no mind. Hermione just blindly leaped for a random door and found herself in the black corridor that led back to the elevator they'd come down with. To her fortune, it was still sitting there, doors open, as if it had been specifically prepared for her wild escape. The girl rushed inside and hit the button for the Atrium. The door was closing behind her and she risked a look back.

Right away, she spotted Bellatrix, gaining on her, fast. The vampiress reached the door just the fraction of a second too late and couldn't get in anymore.

The two witches stared at each other, Hermione panting violently. Their eye contact only broke off, when the elevator ascended.

For the umpteenth time today, a wave of relieve washed over the teenager and she leaned back against the wall, relaxing a little.

When the lift came to a halt, and the doors reopened again, she walked out and into the Atrium. Eventually she stopped in her track and took a look around.

What was she supposed to do now?

She had accomplished to lure Bellatrix away from the battle, as planned. But now what? She didn't exactly know her way around the Ministry, never having been here before, but she couldn't just wait around either; Bellatrix would catch up eventually.

Sighing desperately, she decided to treat her wounded arm and wash the blood off herself, for now. That would also make it harder for the vampire to track her. So, Hermione made her way to the golden fountain, held her arm into the water and rubbed it clean. After that, she pointed her wand at the cut on her forearm.

"Episkey," she said and the wound closed up neatly.

Still not knowing what her next step should be, the girl stared at her own reflection in the clear water of the fountain, enjoying the peace and quiet around her.

Suddenly, black, silk-like curls entered her field of vision. A pointy chin perched itself on her left shoulder. A foreign arm snaked its way across her belly, gently, almost lovingly caressing it. Another arm wrapped itself around her as well and found its way to her hip. Then, she heard a deep intake of breath.

Her blood froze.  
How could she have snuck up on her like that?  
How could she not have noticed her?

Hermione's breathing accelerated.  
That was it.  
She was done for.  
There was no way out.  
Bellatrix had her in her grasp.  
Nothing could save her now.

She started to cry.

"P-Please," Hermione wept weakly, almost unintelligible, "please don't kill me."

She was turned around in the embrace. Dread of what was to come closed up her throat and she stopped breathing, while her tears kept falling silently. But the moment the two of them locked eyes, all of Hermione's fear, her unrest and despair were gone in an instant. She was captivated by the radiantly golden gleam of Bellatrix' eyes and relaxed into her embrace.

A smooth hand placed itself on her cheek. It felt soft, cool and soothing, so the brunette willingly leaned into the touch, exposing her neck in the process.

The vampiress closed in on her until Hermione felt her breath brushing over her bared skin. Soft lips touched her and parted to make way for the elongated canines to scratch her neck. A shiver went down her spine as she gave a quiet moan of anticipation.

Hermione gasped and tightly grabbed on to Bellatrix' back, when her fangs penetrated her skin and she began to suck her blood.

A new sensation swept through her body. It felt strange, but also good somehow. The dark witch's grip around her loosened. She now wasn't even holding the teenager in place, presented her with the option to escape. But Hermione didn't back away. On the contrary, she tightened her own embrace and pulled herself closer to the older woman. She wanted Bellatrix to keep going, to keep sucking her blood, to never let go of her again. She moaned again in total bliss, as she began to feel a little dizzy.

"Disgusting!"

A sharp voice cut through the air and into her world of perfect pleasure. And with it, reality came crashing down hard on her. All the fear and hopelessness returned with a vengeance and somehow, the creepy sound of that foreign voice managed to intensify the feeling.  
Even Bellatrix seemed to be affected by it, as she had stopped sucking her blood and her body had stiffened remarkably.

The vampiress detached herself from the girl and walked a stumbling step back.

Hermione, still feeling dizzy, couldn't keep on her feet and fell down to the floor, leaning against the fountain.

She searched Bellatrix' face and was in awe at what she saw. Her eyes had lost their intense glow and the sclerae had turned white again. Her expression was no longer that of a feral beast; now, she looked confused, unsettled… maybe even a little scared. It seemed as if she hadn't the slightest idea what was going on right now.

Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but feel sympathy for the dark witch.

Their eyes met.

"I really wanted to be a generous Lord and grant you a quick and painless death, for your years of loyal service to me," the eerily calm voice from before returned in all its vile glory, "but now, I have to witness, how you fraternize with this wretched filth."

Both witches simultaneously turned their heads towards the source of the voice and Hermione was struck with another surge of fear; a fear she had never before felt in her life. Because, even though she had never seen him before, she knew exactly, who it was, that stood before her. The snake-like features of his face and the creepy, red eyes were exactly like Harry had described them to her.

Voldemort.

Her heart clenched painfully. Words could not even begin to describe how horrifying the mere presence of the Dark Lord was.

To her, admittedly, very little relieve, his whole focus seemed to be fixed on Bellatrix.

With slow and calm steps, that made it look like he was levitating across the floor, he came closer to the vampiress.

"So, maybe I must… reconsider."

"M-My Lord?" Bellatrix only stammered feebly. She looked frightened and even more confused, than she had been moments ago.

"Crucio!"

Bellatrix fell to her knees, eyes wide. She grit her teeth and twitched involuntarily, while she made the occasional retching sound, most likely because she tried to hold back her screams. Jerkily, she brought her arms up to hug herself, clawing at her shoulders with her fingers. She slightly bent over and opened her mouth in a silent scream.

"M-My… L-Lord!" she squeezed out with great difficulty, tears falling in full stream.

"STOP!" Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs.  
She just couldn't watch this any longer.

Surprised, Voldemort ceased to torture his former subject.

Hermione, too weak to stand up, meanwhile crawled the short way over to Bellatrix.

"Please, stop," she whimpered pathetically, crying.

She reached the tormented woman and grabbed on to her, weeping into her shoulder.

"Please, stop hurting her."

The room fell silent.  
For what seemed to be an eternity, the only sounds audible were Hermione's sobs and the water of the golden fountain.

"So, girl," Voldemort broke the silence with his cold, apathetic voice, "I understand you would like to share her fate, then."

Hermione heard his words, but didn't register their meaning. She only made sense of them, when it was already too late.

"Crucio!"

The world around her completely blanked out.

She stopped to cry.  
The stinging pain of her ribs wholly forgotten.  
She heard nothing.  
She saw nothing.  
Her eyes wide like never before.

And then, she shrieked.  
She threw herself on the ground, writhing and thrashing violently. Her whole body was in a world of pain. Pain she couldn't even fathom.  
After seconds, that felt like hours, the torment seemed to grow even more intense, if that was at all possible. She curled herself up, screeching all the while and grasped her head convulsively.

She wanted it to end.  
The torture or her live, she didn't care which.  
She only wanted the pain to stop.

And it did.

The Cruciatus Curse was suddenly lifted from her and the world around her came back into focus.  
However, not for very long.

The strain of the torture proofed to be too much for her already weakened body.

The last things she noticed, before her consciousness faded out, were a flash of light, someone calling her name, a hand on her back, and the feeling of being pressed through a tube.

* * *

**Again, I am sorry it took so long. The chapter turned out to be longer an quite different to what I had originally planned.**

**However, I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, thank you for reading ^^**


	5. Aftermath

Bellatrix sat on a bed in the very cabin she had escaped from earlier today, cowering against the wall, her legs hugged tightly, trying to wrap her head around what had happened in the past hour. She remembered entering the Department of Mysteries and hiding behind that office desk, but from there she drew a blank.

The next thing she remembered was the most delicious flavour she had ever tasted in her entire life, and a sharp voice cutting deep into her brain.

_His _voice.

In every other situation the sound of his voice would have filled her with malicious excitement and vicious glee, but now all she felt was cold dread; the mere memory made her shudder.

The witch hugged her legs even tighter, trembling, silent tears starting to fall.

She was finished. She had no idea where to go from here, or what to do from now on.  
This had been her last chance to regain her Dark Lord's favour, to prove her worth to him, but she couldn't deliver the boy or the prophecy to him. And, to be honest, she wasn't sure if it had even mattered. He hadn't asked for either of them. He had only addressed her with a look of utter disgust and a tone of vile revulsion before he had inflicted the Torture Curse on her.

Her shaking grew more violent at the memory of the almost unbearable pain of the curse. It had been fuelled by all his anger and contempt he felt for her. Realisation dawned on her and her heart clenched.  
He hated her.  
He hated her because she was different, because she had become something, he didn't deem pure, because she now no longer fit into his description of perfection.

Because she was a filthy vampire.

Her grip tightening yet again she slumped even more and started to cry openly, her sobs shaking her whole body.

Her Lord was right.  
She was worthless, nothing more than an animal, a rotten halfbreed beast.  
Who would even want her around?  
Why should anyone even want her around?

Depression came crushing down on her like a wave breaking at shore, threatening to devour and drag her down into an endless pit of self-loathing. Her heart grew ever darker and she felt numb, deprived of all emotion.  
She felt nothing.  
Nothing, but the desire to succumb to the darkness inside, to disappear … to die.

She was just about ready to entirely give up on herself, when a sudden movement and disgruntled groan snapped her out of this pool of despair.  
Only now fully realising that she had been sharing the bed this whole time, Bellatrix lifted her head and turned her exhausted gaze towards the other occupant.

It was the girl.  
The girl who had been with her when she regained control over herself again.  
The girl she …

Her eyes wandered to the brunette's neck where her bite marks were still visible.  
She remembered it, the wonderful taste of the girl's blood, the enticing serenade of desire it played whenever its scent touched her nose.  
Even now it was present.  
The small trickles of dried-up blood still emanated enough of the captivating aroma to make her crave for more.

Eagerly, she licked her lips and crawled over to the student, now hovering just above her, cursing herself for doing so at the same time. With wide eyes she stared down into the sleeping beauty's face, slowly moving in on her neck to get another fill.

"N-No," the girl murmured in her sleep, startling the vampiress to a halt. Her face was contorted in displeasure as she writhed about a little. Bellatrix, actually a bit relieved, removed herself from her and watched as the girl groaned and shook.

"Today must have been quite traumatic for you, little girl," the witch hummed in a hollow voice and absentmindedly brushed back a rogue strand of hair that had fallen into her face, "mostly to my own merit, I feel."  
Not that she cared or was even the slightest bit concerned for her wellbeing, but it was a welcome distraction from her own worries.

She cupped the girl's cheek with her hand and gently stroked it with her thumb. Her features immediately relaxed and her body stopped stirring. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow as her eyes trailed back to the young witch's bitten neck, when a thought crossed her mind.  
Maybe it wasn't a nightmare that plagued her in her sleep. Bellatrix remembered the first time she awoke as a vampire and how upset she had felt … and how much the simple touch of Basilius hand had calmed her down.  
She looked back at her hand that was still caressing the girl's cheek.

Was she having the same effect on her now?  
Had she writhed about in discomfort because she was transforming?  
Was she turning into a vampire?

Bellatrix wasn't exactly sure why, but the thought excited her.

_Hmm… She _would _make a cute pet._

"She is going to be alright."

The sudden voice from behind startled her out of her thoughts. She turned around towards the source and saw none other than Basilius himself standing in the threshold to the next room. The witch jerkily removed herself from the sleeping girl and cowered herself back against the wall.

"And why would I care?" She grumbled towards the newcomer, abhorrence clear in her voice.

"Oh, I just assumed, since you were so lovingly tending to her," he explained and came closer, leisurely leaning against the desk across from the bed.

Bellatrix clicked her tongue and turned away from the vampire, her gaze again falling on the girl's resting face, which was now slightly contorted by discomfort once more.

"I wasn't," she growled irritated, as she shifted her line of sight back to the intruder, "what do you want?"

For a few painfully long seconds Basilius just returned her menacing glare with his own unwavering look. But eventually he dejectedly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I … need to apologise."

That caught her off guard. She was prepared for a scolding, a snarky remark or even some kind of punishment, but she would've never expected this.  
So, at a loss of words, she only softened her mimic, giving him the silent permission to carry on.

"I have come to realise that I handled the aftermath of your transformation rather …" he stopped his elaboration shortly to find the appropriate word, "… poorly."

Bellatrix didn't react to his words; she just kept silently watching him, settling to simply listen for the moment.

"I … should have been there for you from the very start. To guide you, to teach you, to help you adapt to your changed body."  
He growled to himself.  
"But ignorance led me to completely disregard your feelings. I thought you save there, locked away in Azkaban, so I focussed on other matters and planned to deal with you at a later time."  
Basilius looked directly at her, giving her a weary and regretful smile.  
"Fourteen years are but the blink of an eye for me. But you, who had just been turned a vampire, of course had not yet adapted to your new life and thus perceived time like you always have. It must have been an awful long time in your eyes."  
He sighed deeply and drawn-out.  
"I'm sorry."

Bellatrix still remained quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his heartfelt apology even in the slightest. Even though she had to admit that it did, in fact, touch her. But she'd never show it, of course. Instead, she only returned his intense gaze with her own stoic glare.

After a few seconds Basilius gave another sigh and a weary, sad smile.

"And now, I'm afraid, it's too late."  
He stood up from his leaning position and started walking towards the vampiress.  
"Even if I'd offer you to come with me, to be there for you and teach you everything you need to know, you already despise me too much to even consider it."

He reached the bed and gently cupped her cheek with his hand, just like she did with the girl only moments ago herself. And even though every conscious fibre in her body told her not to, she leaned into his touch, never breaking eye contact.

"Even now your eyes are filled with malice," he continued, retreating his hand from her face in the process.  
Her stomach churned unpleasantly.  
"And so, I decided to leave you alone."

Bellatrix felt a sting in her chest and resisted the urge to grasp it.

"I feel like, no matter what I say or do, nothing will get through to you. I am aware that you have reached a point where my words won't reach you, however hard I may try."  
He sat down on the edge of the bed.  
"Therefore, I believe it best to leave you in your own care. I can't help you at the moment. I have come to understand that you will need time to accept what happened. I realised that I have to let you move at your own pace, and come to terms with what you are, what you've become."  
He took her hand and squeezed it tenderly.  
"And, most importantly, to find out _who _you are."

Bellatrix had listened quietly to him, unmoving, but at his last words she crossly jerked her hand away from him. Her heart started racing, she clenched her fists and jaw and her body tensed up. Emotion stirred into a frantic storm within her, she hugged herself tightly. But, to her own great surprise, it wasn't anger she primarily felt, but sorrow.

"So, you decided to abandon me. Just like _him_" the witch hissed weakly and clawed her fingers into her shoulders, vigorously trying to hold back her tears.

"Not quite," came his soothing voice and she felt his hands softly wrap around her own, effectively disengaging them from herself, "I simply give you the freedom to find your own path."  
Again, his words stirred up a feeling she wasn't very familiar with. Gratitude.  
"And if that path ever leads you back to me," Basilius carried on while pulling her hands further towards him to place a soft kiss on her knuckles, "know, that I will always be welcoming you with open arms."

As she looked down into his sincere eyes, her mind and heart went to battle again. Her brain screamed to shove him away, to shower him with a barrage of curses for daring to even touch her. But her heart wanted to give in to his tender caress, to flee into his comforting arms and to cry on his shoulder, to let out all the pain and sorrow she felt deep inside.

A stir on the bed pulled her out of her thoughts, remembering again that there was still another person in here. The girl also caught Basilius attention and he let go of her hands. A pang of loneliness stabbed her in the chest and she resisted the urge to click her tongue.

The vampire got up and walked the few steps over to where the student's head rested, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I should take her back soon. I'm sure her friends are worried about her," he spoke calmly, his words causing another wave of loneliness to wash over her.  
"But before that," he continued an turned his head towards the witch, "are there any questions you'd like to ask? Is there anything you want to know?"

Bellatrix contemplated his question as her head sunk, a myriad of things blasting through her mind simultaneously. She couldn't even grasp a single thought.  
A mirthless chuckle escaped her throat.

"There are a thousand things I want to know and ask," she said in a low voice and lifted her gaze back up, which immediately fell on the sleeping girl, "but since you are so obviously eager to abandon me, I'll try to narrow it down." She shot him a malicious look, her words scathingly venomous.  
She ignored his resigned sigh and her eyes fell back on the girl, a question finally forming in her mind.  
"You said before, that she is going to be fine. Does that mean she won't turn into a vampire?"

"That is correct."

"But I bit her, so why?"

Basilius fell silent for a moment, intently staring at her.

"Because there is more to it than just a bite."

Bellatrix gave him a bewildered look, "How so?"

"Well, I don't want to go into too much detail right now, lest we sit here for quite some time," he carried on, only serving to increase her confusion, "so, in short, vampires inject a sort of 'venom' into their victim's body with a bite. This 'venom' is the indicator of the transformation and is triggered by the victim's death."

The witch just kept staring at him, confusion ever rising.

What the hell was he saying? Vampires were venomous? That couldn't be right, could it? It sounded ridiculous.  
Then again, she knew next to nothing about vampires, never having been interested in them in the slightest. So, everything she would come to know about vampires, about herself, would be a leap into the unknown.

"I … I don't understand," she mumbled, grasping her head in frustration.

"And you don't need to yet," Basilius commented soothingly and graced her with a smile, "for now just remember not to kill anyone you bite. And as soon as you are ready to accept your current self and would like to know more, I will happily explain everything to you, down to the smallest detail."  
He stood up from the bed and lifted the still sleeping girl into his arms, bridal style.  
"And on that note, I have to bid you farewell."  
His smile turned sad.  
"There are a lot of things to attend to."

Bellatrix felt a sudden surge of panic.  
"W-Wait! I still have questions!"  
She wanted to sound angry, but her words came out desperate.

"I know, and I am sorry I have to leave you, but it is for the best," he tried to calm her down, but it didn't work. The vampiress still felt unsettled.  
He looked her right in the eyes.  
"Trust me, there's nothing I'd rather do, than to take you with me and show you everything you need to know."  
He took a deep breath.  
"But there are some things best learned on your own."

Bellatrix just sat there, staring at him, not knowing what to do or say right now.

"We will surely meet again, Bellatrix."  
A warm and comforting feeling spread through her stomach, as he spoke her name.  
"And until then, I wish you the best of luck."  
He smiled widely and reassuringly and then vanished with a loud cracking noise.

Bellatrix didn't move. She felt empty.  
He was gone. She was alone.

Slowly her body tipped to the side and laid itself down on the bed.  
No one would mind if she rested here for a bit, would they?  
She curled herself up.  
No one would blame her for feeling lonely and betrayed, yes?  
Her hand clutched her chest.  
No one would judge her if she cried, right?

A loud wail resounded through the small and quiet cabin, as Bellatrix let her tears roam free.

* * *

Hermione's senses were slowly returning to her. She snuggled up into the warm and cozy bed and felt a gentle, mellow breeze sweep over her. Drawing in a deep breath she hummed contently as her eyes fluttered open.

The first thing she noticed was a strange man sitting on a chair next to her bed in the hospital wing. He had short, straw-blonde hair, a chin-beard and was wearing casual clothing. He was reading a book with a bored expression. Based on his appearance he must have been around his thirties.

Hermione sat up an took a look around. Aside from her and the stranger the room was fairly empty. Only Ron, who occupied the bed next to hers, was the sole other patient present.

"Finally awake, are we?" suddenly came the voice of the stranger, what made the girl look back at him. He, however, hadn't raised his eyes from the book in his hand.  
"Two of your friends were released earlier," he explained, still not looking up, sounding bored and tired, "both had a simple bone fracture; an easy fix for a trained healer. The ginger over the—"

"His name is Ron," Hermione cut in sharply, what finally made him turn to her. She shot him a determined glare; she wouldn't allow anyone to address one of her friends in such a disrespectful manner.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed tiredly and returned to his book, "_Ron_ over there was hit by some curse and still needs further treatment, but he'll be alright."

Pleased with herself to have successfully corrected him, the young witch allowed herself to smirk victoriously.

"And you, my dear," he continued undeterred, snapped his book shut and threw it on the bedside-table, "are the reason I'm here."  
He scooped closer with his chair and looked Hermione dead in the eye, now sporting a serious expression.

"W-What do you mean? Who are you?" Hermione stuttered, flustered by the sudden attention, and brought as much distance between them as her bed allowed.

"The name's Jonathan Strauss. I was asked to check on you, because you were bitten by a vampire," he answered casually and gave a crooked smile.

Hermione's heart sunk. She only now remembered what had transpired last night. The image of a ferocious Bellatrix Lestrange chasing her through the Ministry flashed before her eyes. Her face paled as she recalled the feeling of sheer panic, when Bellatrix' smooth arms had wrapped around her body. She remembered those piercing, gleaming golden eyes that filled her with both horror and tranquility.

As if in a trance Hermione's hand moved up to her neck where the vampiress' teeth had struck. Her breathing accelerated and she was about to cry.

"Calm down," the man said soothingly and took her free hand into his own, squeezing it gently.  
Hermione snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes trailing back to Jonathan.  
"You are going to be fine," he assured her, "you are not going to become a vampire."

"I-I'm not?" the girl asked bewildered, actually a little bit calmer but not entirely convinced yet, "why?"

"Well," he drawled, apparently contemplating how to best explain it, "because in order to transform, the victim has to die."

Hermione blankly stared at him.  
"What?"

"You see, the way it works is: When a vampire bites you, they inject a sort of venom into your body via their canines. If you die carrying that stuff around in your veins, it will take over and you reincarnate as a vampire. If not, your body will just fight it off eventually."

The girl's confusion only rose. "I… still don't quite understand."

"And you don't have to. For now, just focus on the fact that you are not turning into a vampire," the man said and winked at her, flashing an encouraging smile.  
"However," he carried on, now a bit more serious again, "you will adopt some vampiric attributes for a few days. Nothing major, though. You'll just grow more sensitive to bright lights, loud noises, and strong smells; you'll feel a little weak under the sun and you might just have the occasional urge to drink blood."

Hermione looked at him with narrowed eyebrows.

"What brings me to my last agenda for the day. If you don't mind, I would like to take a few blood samples."

Her confusion now gave way to anxiety.  
"W-What? Why?"  
Her voice shook a little.

"Oh, no, no. Don't worry. It's not because I think something might be wrong," he waved off immediately and flashed a reassuring smile, "it's just that …"  
The man took a deep breath and sighed stretched-out.  
"It's not uncommon for vampires to lose it and fall back to their primeval ways, when they're starved of blood or something."  
He shrugged parenthetically.  
"But, usually, in that state vampires would go after anyone. Whatever the source, they would attack anything they can get their hands on, and yet …"  
He leaned in and looked intently at the witch.  
"From what I was told, that Bellatrix woman seemed particularly interested in you."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed deep in thought and lowered her head as she remembered last night's events, "she did attack others, though. But, now that I think about it, that was only when they got in her way." Her hand subconsciously moved towards her ribs. "Or to protect me." She looked back up at Jonathan and was met with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

"Protect you?" he asked sceptically.

"Y-Yes," Hermione replied hesitantly, "why? Is that … weird?"

The man stared back at her silently for a moment.  
"Well, at the very least it's unusu—"

"Hermione!" a familiar voice cut him off.

She turned her head towards the door and, as expected, saw Ginny standing there, grinning widely and waving at her. Hermione waved back an returned the smile.

"I guess we'll have to continue our conversation another time," Jonathan said and stood up.

"No, wait. I still have—"

"Questions, I know, and I plan to answer them. But, for now, you should enjoy some time with your friends." He turned to leave but briefly looked back at her.  
"Keep in touch."  
He gave a single wave and then, without stopping again, left the hospital wing.

Hermione could only watch as he disappeared and sighed dejectedly.  
But there wasn't much time to fret over it, as Ginny excitedly wrapped her arms around her.

"It's so good to see you awake," the redhead exulted and squeezed her tight for a moment before letting her go to look intently into her eyes, "how are you?"  
Hermione was about to answer but her best friend just pressed on boisterously.  
"What happened to you? No one of the Order would tell me and I couldn't catch Harry yet. You know, with Dumbledore being so secretive with him and the whole thing with Sirius."

"What thing with Sirius?" Hermione immediately interrupted, concern clear in her voice.  
Did they catch him, sent him back to Azkaban, or worse, would he be kissed by a Dementor?

"Oh, of course. You don't know yet," Ginny grinned widely and happily, effectively defusing the panic that had threatened to rear its ugly head within her, "Sirius has been pardoned."

Hermione's heart was instantly filled with glee.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, her eyes shining with delight.

Ginny nodded.

"When Fudge saw that Sirius was fighting on our side and not on _You know who_'s, he was finally ready to hear everyone out and immediately cleared him of all charges."

"Harry must be so happy."

"I'm sure he is. Didn't have the time to talk to him, though," the redhead said, sounding a little down, "I woke up just before everyone was leaving for the Ministry again, to give their official statements and testimonies regarding Sirius. A formal thing that needs to be done, according to Fudge."

"I see," Hermione smiled. She couldn't be happier for Harry right now.

"And I couldn't get anything out of that guy," Ginny complained further and pointed at the empty chair next to the brunette's bed, "what was his deal anyway?"

"Well, he," Hermione started hesitantly, one hand subconsciously moving to the neck where she'd been bitten, "he seems to know some things about vampires."

The redhead blankly stared at her for a second.  
"So, Bellatrix really is a vampire," she stated plainly and her expression darkened.  
Hermione gave a nod.  
"And she bit you?" Ginny asked, her face and voice now filled with sympathy.

"Yes," the brunette confirmed and dived into a narration of what transpired last night after the Weasley-girl had been knocked out. However, she stopped when she reached the point when Bellatrix had bitten her. After that moment her memories were a little fuzzy and unclear. Plus, she had the distinct feeling, that she didn't want to remember it anyway.

"Well," Ginny said after listening intently to her story, "you definitely belong into Gryffindor. Luring a vampire, no, luring Bellatrix Lestrange away on your own was stupidly brave."  
They both laughed at the joke but the redhead suddenly started fiddling with her hands and seemed nervous.  
"So, um, does that mean you are…?"  
She was obviously uncomfortable with that question and left it unsaid.  
And she didn't have to finish it; Hermione knew exactly what her friend wanted to know.

"No, I'm not," she assured the girl and proceeded with telling her what Jonathan had told her only minutes before.

"Well, he sure is rude," Ginny concluded from her story and sat up, "but it seems like he knows his stuff. Who do you think asked him to come, though?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered, as much at a loss as her redheaded friend, "no one could have known that I was bitten by a vampire. The only people there were I, Bellatrix and …"  
The memories of shining, blood-red eyes flashed before her eyes. A cold voice filled with resentment and revulsion resounded inside her head.  
Her body shivered at the memory, her face went white and she started hyperventilating.

"Are you ok?"  
The worried voice of her friend paired with the soft and warm touch of her hand on hers snapped her out of her fit.  
She looked at Ginny, beads of cold sweat covering her forehead, her breath still accelerated.

"Yes, I'm fine," she panted and swallowed hard, trying to breathe evenly, "I … I think I'm just not feeling as well as I thought." She withdrew her hand from Ginny's and leaned back into her pillow.  
"M-Maybe I need some more rest."  
She hated to lie to her best friend but she really didn't want to discuss her meeting with Voldemort. She didn't even want to remember it.

Hermione took a glimpse at the redhead and saw her worry-stricken face. But, luckily, she didn't pry any further.

"Alright," she simply said and stood from the bed, smiling at the brunette, "I'll let you get some rest. And when I meet Harry, I'll let him know that you're alive and well."

"Thanks."

"Get well soon."  
With that, Ginny turned and left the hospital wing, giving her a small wave before exiting through the door.

Hermione stared after her for a few seconds and then sighed deeply, sinking into her pillow even further. She tried to ban last night's memories from her mind, but it wouldn't work. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with another two pairs. One a threateningly dreadful red, the other a frightening, yet somehow enticing gold.  
No, she wouldn't be able to get any sleep right now.

Tiredly, the teenager turned her head and caught sight of her bedside table, where the book Jonathan was reading before still rested. She propped herself up again and, curious as she was, picked up the tome.

"Journey to the West," she read the title aloud, her interest peaked, "I've always wanted to read it some time." She opened it and found a small business-card tucked to a corner of the hardcover. It had the name 'Dr. Jonathan Strauss' as well as a phone number printed on it and a scribbled handwritten note underneath that read:  
_Call me after the 'v-fects' wore off … and enjoy the book_

She shook her head and sighed at the bad pun.

_Was that supposed to be funny?_

She took the card and put it neatly in her pocket, before she returned her attention back to the book and started reading.

The next day Harry, as well as Luna, Ginny and Neville came to visit her and Ron, who had regained consciousness again. After they had all caught up with each other and the most resent events, Harry turned a worried face to Hermione and addressed the one thing she hoped no one would ask her about.

"So, how are you feeling after … you know … Voldemort tortured you?"

The group instantly went silent. Ron flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name while the others all stared at the brunette with wide eyes.

"I'm fine," she mumbled and looked down to her hands, not able to stand the gazes of her friends, of course convincing no one, not even herself.

"Hermione, I know how it feels to be tortured by him," Harry said empathically and reached for the girl's hands, "you can talk—"

"I said, I'm fine!" Hermione burst out, snatching her hands away before Harry could touch them and shot him a glare.

Harry got visibly angry and was ready to lash out.

"It's all right, Harry," Luna, however, cut in aloof as always and put her hand on his shoulder, "Hermione doesn't have to tell us if she's not ready to." The blonde turned her silvery eyes to the brunette and smiled brightly.

She never figured out how to deal with that girl, didn't really know how to approach or talk to her. Honestly, she had always believed her to be … weird … and a little bit crazy. But in this moment, she was glad Luna was here to stop Harry.

Hermione returned the smile and mouthed a 'thank you' to her.  
Luna's smile grew a little wider and she distinctively blinked once, probably her attempt to wink.  
Hermione had to stifle a laugh.

Harry, meanwhile, had stared at the blonde girl this whole time. Only when she removed her hand from him did he come back from his thoughts.  
"Uh, yeah, you're right, Luna. I'm sorry," he stammered and averted his gaze.  
Hermione could've very well been mistaken, but she was pretty sure she saw a tint of red on his cheeks when he turned away.

"Well, not to spoil the mood here," Ginny suddenly raised her sarcastic voice, "but I'm starving. Anyone up for some lunch?"  
The group unanimously agreed and stood up, wished the two patients a speedy recovery and left, but not before everyone had worriedly glanced at Hermione for one last time.

As soon as they were out of the room Hermione breathed a deep sigh and fell back into her pillow. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face but immediately stopped again when an image of Voldemort flashed before her eyes. His gleaming blood-red irises pierced her very soul; her stomach churned unpleasantly. Cold sweat formed on her forehead, her face paled and her breath quickened.

"You ok?" She heard Ron's voice from beside her, successfully saving her from her own mind.  
"If you need anything—"

"I'm fine, Ronald," she blurted out, harsher than she had anticipated and regretted it right away, as she saw the stricken face of the redhead.  
"Sorry," she panted and wiped away the sweat with her sleeve, "I just … need some time."

"Alright," Ron said meekly and snuggled back into his sheets, "whenever you're ready."

The witch felt a pang of guilt and compassion for her friend but chose to ignore it for now. Instead she turned her eyes to the bedside-table and reached for the book lying there. It would be a most welcome and much needed distraction.

Harry and the others didn't come again for the rest of the day. Hermione wasn't sure how to feel about that, however. She was relieved that they hadn't come back to interrogate her about the torture, but at the same time she felt distraught, wondered if she had maybe been too hard, too aggressive with Harry.  
But her worries proofed to be unfounded.  
After she was released from the hospital wing the next morning, she joined up with her friends and it was like their argument had never happened.

But despite her happy reunion and the wonderful weather they had for their remaining days until the end of term, Hermione spent most of her time in the library. Not only because it was her favourite room in the entire school, but also because Jonathan's diagnosis turned out to be correct. She actually felt weaker under the sunlight and everything she saw, heard or smelled seemed to be clearer, more intense. Also, when Ginny accidentally cut her finger at breakfast one time, she found herself hungrily yearning for a taste of her blood. Unfortunately, the redhead had noticed and kept on teasing her ever since.

So, the library was the perfect place for her to retreat to. It was quiet, dimly lit and its most prominent smell was the scent of parchment, that Hermione loved so much. Plus, none of her friends would be caught dead in here after the school year was practically over.

Her highest priority when visiting the library, however, was to research everything she could about vampires. Her encounter had made clear to her that there was a significant void of knowledge, what spurred a thirst within her she indispensably sought to quench.  
And after hours and days of reading books and parchments, notes or other forms of recording she learned … nothing.  
All she could find were rumours, hearsay, myths or legends. It almost seemed as if nobody ever met a vampire at all.  
Even Hagrid was only able to convey stories.

That only left the restricted section in the library. Begrudgingly, since it had been so close to the end of term, Professor McGonagall hadn't given her permission to visit it. So she had to postpone that idea until after the summer break.

Thus, as she was sitting in her compartment on the train ride back to London, she stared at the business card she had received from her strange visitor the day after she was bitten. He would know something; he would have answers. She was sure of it.

Determined to make the call once she had the chance, she packed the card away and looked out the window to watch the ever-darkening sky, as they steadily approached London.

Her eyes grew heavy and she slowly drifted off into a light slumber.

Scenes from the night in the Ministry of Magic played out in her dreams, or rather, one specific moment:  
Bellatrix' arms wrapped around her body, her pointy chin resting on her shoulder and her cool breath stroking her skin.  
The vampiress slowly turned the girl around in her grip, closing in on her neck, fangs bared. Hermione didn't resist. She melted into her assailants embrace, grabbing onto her. She threw her head back and tipped it to the side to give Bellatrix an easier access. Her heart went into a frenzy when the dark witch's canines scratched her skin, ready to strike.  
Hermione held her breath.

"Hey, wake up!"

The brunette was shaken out of her dream. She had to blink a few times to grasp what was going on.

"Are you ok? You were groaning in your sleep," Ginny asked worriedly, while all the other occupants looked at her with concern and sympathy.

"Yes, I'm alright. It's just …," Hermione said and sighed tiredly, "I keep dreaming about Bellatrix, when she …"  
She left the rest unsaid and mildly touched her neck.

"Aw, you poor thing," Ginny spoke motherly and gave her a tight, loving hug.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Ron chipped in and took Hermione's hand, giving it a light squeeze, "I can't even imagine how it must feel to be attacked by a crazy vampire."

"It must have been awful," Neville agreed with the two redheads, who both retreated from the brunette again to give her some space.

"Yes," Hermione breathed absentmindedly, deeply lost in her thoughts, "it was terrifying."

… _and exciting. _

A small smile tucked at the corner of her mouth. She quickly turned her face away before anyone could notice.  
However, in the window's reflection, she caught Luna's silvery eyes studying her. In her typical aloof way, the blonde flashed a wide, knowing smile.

Embarrassed, Hermione blushed a light shade of pink and broke eye contact.

* * *

**Man, that chapter gave me a hard time.  
I'm so glad it's finally done - even though I'm still not fully satisfied. But, whatever.  
**

**Hope you enjoyed it anyway.**

**And, as always, thank you for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing.**


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